


꽃이 만발한 차 (Tea Blossom)

by seitsemannen



Category: GOT7
Genre: 19th Century Joseon, Alternate Universe - Historical, Background Relationships, Historical Inaccuracies, M/M, Prostitution, Tea House, basically a whole fic inspired by how Jinyoung doesn't like to show skin, feat. your basic Joseon era politics and plotting, period-typical violence, such as Markson and Yugbam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:52:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 74,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seitsemannen/pseuds/seitsemannen
Summary: Unlike the other companions at the Red Orchid, Jinyoung’s robes never revealed more than the slope of his neck or a sliver of his wrist, if he was being flirtatious. His clients were paying for his intelligent company and handsome face, nothing else.The entrance of Jaebum in his life is the start of a series of exceptions.





	1. First Petal

**Author's Note:**

> I started this impulsively one day… I have had the idea of a tea house escort thingy in my head bouncing around forever, but I’ve always thought I don’t know enough nor do I have the skill to pull this off but… My brain decided that now is the time.
> 
> Inspiration for this fic has been drawn from many sources, mainly my love for historical, especially tea house type of escort fics, and the movie Memoirs of a Geisha.
> 
> The fic attempts to be set in early/mid 19th century in Joseon, but it is not historically accurate, and I’m mixing in things that I’ve seen in Geisha movies. Consider this a historical “fantasy” AU in the sense that I’m taking some liberties, but I’ll do my best to make it immersive.
> 
> Things you need to know in advance:  
> Hanseong = Joseon era name for Seoul  
> Mun = Joseon era currency, made of copper  
> 꽃이 만발한 차 = Blooming tea
> 
> The Mature rating is tentative, I’ll see if I need to raise it later. I probably will.
> 
> Please enjoy! ♥

Jinyoung turned the teacup precisely, his fingers perfectly aligned, every movement fluid, but calculated. One hand held the sleeves of his sturdy but fine silk robes out of the way, his eyes lowered as he focused on what he was doing. When he finally lifted the meticulously prepared cup to his lips, it was immaculate, a beautiful, bright green. Jinyoung savored the smell of it before finally taking the first sip, the bitter flavor familiar and refreshing on his tongue.

Boa, his client, a beautiful lady with her black hair tied modestly at the low of her neck and her light pink and peach coloured kimono emphasizing the pale shade of her skin, brought her own cup to her lips with the same exact precision. Boa was one of Jinyoung’s favorites, one of the few he deemed worthy of seeing him regularly. Her husband was a high-ranking, rich general who traveled a lot, leaving Boa often for months with too much money at her leisure and too little company to spend it in, especially intellectual one, and for both she had found a solution in Jinyoung.

Jinyoung was the most expensive companion at the Red Orchid, the most renowned tea house in Hanseong, despite the fact that he was known to only provide services outside of the bed, unlike most of the companions. Jinyoung liked best the clients who didn’t just pretend to be interested in something else than his pretty face and the body which he despite many generous offers hidden. Boa was one of them, her heart loyal to her husband. She adored Jinyoung, and Jinyoung enjoyed her biweekly company a lot, spending hours sharing poems and performing tea ceremonies, like today.

They finished the ceremony with routine, an air of calm surrounding them as they remained off in their own world. Jinyoung knew he had done his job well when Boa smiled at him, her face serene and eyes considerably brighter than when she had come in. She verified that by telling him she had enjoyed her time, and that was all Jinyoung wanted. He cared for Boa, in a distant, but sisterly way, and knowing the type of money she spent to get half a day with him, not to even mention the additional price of a tea ceremony, she should enjoy her time.

As they were saying their farewells for the day, she handed him her newest poem in a decorated envelope. He accepted the letter with a small bow, placing it in the folds of his robes for later reading. It took him a lot of additional time to read the poems and come up with ones of his own, but he was indulging Boa, exchanging letters with her every other week. She had been seeing him for years after all, and the complicated and multilayered poems Boa came up with were a welcome challenge for Jinyoung.

He had the time, anyway.

Most days Jinyoung had no clients, but that was by his own choice. He had been at the Red Orchid all his life, left as a baby on its doorstep, taken in by Mrs. Kim. He owed his life to her, the woman having no reason to take him in as a baby, knowing that it would take many years before he could be of any use and start making back the money invested in him, but doing it anyway. Jinyoung had grown to be the apple of her eye, intelligent and handsome, and when he had been old enough to be an companion, he had taken the chance.

The career of an companion at the Red Orchid, and Jinyoung guessed, anywhere else too, was predetermined. They started young, around the age of 12 or 13 as entertainers, dancing, singing or playing instruments at events they were hired to, proceeding to poem and book readings and up to performing tea ceremonies if they had skill enough. When they were of old enough age, they could sell their first time, usually in an auction. After that, they were free to sell their body to anyone they preferred, or simply continue doing the dinner party hostings and tea ceremonies. They were always given the choice, the only requirement that they pay off their debt before leaving the Red Orchid. They could choose their customers, could choose what they would be doing, could work until they had enough money to provide a good life for themselves outside the Red Orchid, if they so chose.

Jinyoung had not auctioned his first time, and he was already 23, more than old enough. Mrs. Kim had asked him if he wanted to, the day he turned of age, and he had told her no. She had not asked again, and although he knew some of the other companions were gossiping, nobody pressed him about it. Despite not providing those kind of services and despite his time being so expensive, he still got more requests than he was willing to serve and considering that he made more than his keep, there was no reason for anyone to complain.

Of course, that never stopped Bambam.

“Hyung, I’m bored,” the younger whined, his head resting in Jinyoung’s lap. The older brushed absentmindedly Bambam’s strands with one hand, the texture coarse because the younger insisted on whitening them with heavy chemicals. The Thai boy claimed it added to his exotic look, which was right. Jinyoung, however, had always preferred the natural black hair color on people.

“Poor you,” Jinyoung said with little sympathy. There were plenty of things Bambam could be doing, but instead the boy had chosen to sit with Jinyoung up at the balcony of the hall of companions, shoving his head into Jinyoung’s lap and interrupting the older where he had been reading the book another one of his regulars had gifted him. Bambam was allowed to be on the balcony, of course, as he belonged amongst the more expensive companions like Jinyoung did, but the youngest often preferred to be downstairs and mingle with the other companions and potential customers.

Bambam always wore the more sheer robes, whereas Jinyoung wore traditional ones, always opaque, always several layers, never showing more than the slope of his neck and the occasional sliver of wrist when he was pouring tea, if he wanted to be generous. Jinyoung liked to think it was part of his allure. Bambam had called him a tease, but Jinyoung had given him a long look before reminding the younger how he liked to toy with his regulars, especially the young lord named Yugyeom who was absolutely smitten with the exotic Thai boy, and Bambam had shut up with an audible click of his jaw.

Bambam turned onto his back on the divan, pouting up at Jinyoung’s face, but before the younger could get a word out, the door was opened, the youngest ones working the door sounding a greeting as they let the newest customers in, and Bambam sat up, eager to see who came in. Jinyoung opened his book again at his bookmark, retracing where he was and intending to continue reading when Bambam’s arm shot out, grabbing hold of Jinyoung’s arm through the layers the older was wearing, and Jinyoung spent a fleeting moment worrying about the crinkles the younger was causing, closing his book and looking at the blonde in annoyance.

“Yoo Youngjae brought a  _ newcomer!” _ Bambam exclaimed, like it was a big deal, and Jinyoung sighed exasperatedly, tugging his arm back to himself.

He did glance down, over the wooden railing of the balcony if just to appease Bambam, and yes. He recognized Yoo Youngjae, the young lord from a moderately influential family had visited them a couple times before, usually preferring to see Daehyun. The man next to him was tall and he had broad shoulders and a sharp nose and eyes, and he looked around with the type of curiosity a person that had never before stepped in an establishment at least as renowned as theirs usually had. Jinyoung averted his eyes back to his book before the newcomers gaze flitted over to the balcony, but Bambam waved, of course, the sheer material of his robes catching the light just like the Thai boy wanted.

Having gotten the attention he so seeked and apparently something to drive away his boredom, Bambam was standing up to make his way downstairs, explaining to Jinyoung like the older cared, “Daehyun-hyung is still sick, isn’t he? Let’s see if I can snatch Yoo Youngjae from him, he should be able to afford me at least for an hour~”

Jinyoung was going to say something seething about Bambam’s impatience, considering that he  _ knew _ that Bambam had a schedule with Yugyeom later that evening, but the words would have fallen on deaf ears, so the black-haired male didn’t bother. It was none of his business that Bambam playing with Yugyeom’s feelings while hiding his own. The Thai boy was an adult, and he could do what he wanted. Yoo Youngjae probably couldn’t afford having Bambam take his clothes off, nor would any of their companions, not even Bambam, do that on a first meeting, but if Youngjae wanted eyecandy, the Thai boy certainly could provide that with tea. Vocal performances like Daehyun liked to do were out of the question of course, as Bambam’s talents lied elsewhere, but Bambam would surely come up with something. A glance downstairs to check on the Thai boy revealed him to be subtly leaning into Youngjae’s space, cocking his head just so, and there were few men that liked to visit the Red Orchid that were able and willing to say no to Bambam once he set his mind on something. The nod that Youngjae gave said as much. Jinyoung lowered his eyes back to his book.

Jinyoung was barely able to read one paragraph before he was disturbed again.

“What are you reading?” an unfamiliar, low and melodic voice asked.

The side of Jinyoung’s lip twitched in annoyance at the interruption, but he was professional, so he placed his simple silk ribbon bookmark on the page he was on before closing his book, turning his neck just enough to be able to raise his eyes to look at the man who spoke to him.

The newcomer was there, leaning onto the wooden railing just to the side of where Jinyoung was sitting, standing in the stairs up to the balcony. His sharp jaw was propped on the hand on the railing, tilted to the side, showing the slope of his neck. He was handsome, but then again, many of their customers were, they were selective even at the door about their guests like that. His robes were quite simple though, a simple dark maroon cotton weave, without any extra embellishment, and if Jinyoung didn’t know that their guests had to already pay a fee at the door, he would think that this man would not be able to afford to even breath the air at the Red Orchid, so ordinary his clothes looked. There was a thin, lighter colored scar on the otherwise well tanned skin of his neck, which led Jinyoung to guess that the man was a low-ranking soldier or mercenary of some sorts, most likely. In which case it was unlikely that he knew much about books at all, or about how establishments like this worked.

The companion wanted to sigh, but his professionality wouldn’t let him. He disliked dealing with newcomers. Usually the whole novelty of the companion house was enough to keep them occupied, and the balcony was rather intimidating to approach, as every new person was told at the door that that was reserved for the most expensive companions the Red Orchid had to provide. That didn’t seem to been enough to deter this man, boldly approaching Jinyoung although he must know that this section would likely be beyond what he could afford.

Jinyoung kept a blank expression as he gave his answer. “The Eight Dog Chronicles.”

The newcomers eyebrows raised, and his lips pulled into a half-grin. “Oh, literature from Edo! You know Japanese?”

Jinyoung was positively surprised by the fact that the man knew the book, but he narrowed his eyes at the implication that it was surprising that someone like him would be able to speak other languages than the common Korean. “Enough to be able to read books in the language, obviously.”

The newcomer laughed, and the sound wasn’t half as unpleasant as Jinyoung would have liked it to be. “Amazing,” the stranger said in Japanese.

“Thank you, my lord,” Jinyoung answered in the same language, tone cold and chilly, expression unchanged. The newcomer was positively getting on his nerves, but he had his manners, still. He hoped the man would take the hint of his expressionless face and cold tone and leave him alone, as the conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

It seemed like the man would not give up though, his thin lips pursing as he took Jinyoung in, eyes traveling from Jinyoung’s face down to the hands that sat on the book closed in his lap and back to his face. Jinyoung didn’t feel intimidated by the gaze, but that didn’t mean that he would have particularly appreciated the assessing look, the strange man having given him little reason to like him so far.

The newcomer seemed intent to continue on that path, as he ignored the hints Jinyoung had tried to give, and started the dying conversation anew, switching back to Korean. “You know, I don’t quite see the appeal.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his patience, before opening them again. He rather disliked the lazy, confident smirk on the stranger’s face. It was attractive, but just the side of smug that ticked the companion off. Jinyoung didn’t answer, but the newcomer continued. “Youngjae told me he had started coming here, and sure, everyone here is pretty, but not enough to explain the price paid at the entrance, and I heard there is no guarantee of even getting sex here, despite the price.” The smug smile widened and the man shrugged, waving with one hand dismissively, like he was above this everything. “So tell me, pretty flower, what is the point of paying five hundred mun at the door just to be able to look at your pretty face?”

It was one thing to interrupt Jinyoung’s readings, and another to give a shrouded insult to Red Orchid, the only home he had ever known, and an establishment of high recognition and good reputation. The companion knew his eyes flashed with barely concealed anger. He realized that the newcomer was probably only seeking to get a rise out of him, but it was working.

“If sex is what you’re looking for, my lord, and any slightly prettier than average face will satisfy, there is a decent brothel if you walk two buildings down, turn left and walk to the end of the street. The Red Orchid is for those who can afford to appreciate beauty and culture, something it seems you, my lord, don’t know much about.”

The man’s eyebrows rose, clearly surprised that Jinyoung would talk back, but the smirk didn’t drop from his face, which was what Jinyoung had hoped for. “Oh I know culture, pretty flower, at least enough to have read the book you’re holding. Would you like me to spoil the ending for you?”

“No, thank you,” Jinyoung answered quickly and curtly, now openly glaring at the man in the plain robes, who had the audacity to laugh at how serious he was taking his reading.

“Alright then, pretty flower, you’ll just have to believe me.” The man paused for a moment, pushing himself straight from where he had been resting his arms and head on the railing, and for a moment Jinyoung thought that the newcomer had finally had enough of him, but alas, no. “Then, will you show me? What this high culture of yours is all about, that I’ve paid five times the price of a good pleasure lady just to enter this house.”

Jinyoung was positively  _ seething _ now, his eyes narrowing at how the man was looking down on him, when the stranger clearly knew nothing about the Red Orchid or Jinyoung, it’s crown jewel. “If the price paid at the door was high for you, my lord, you can hardly afford me. Perhaps your time and money is better spent at the pleasure ladies.”

The newcomer laughed again, his eyes curving as he did, and Jinyoung idly noted the twin moles on top of the man’s left eye. “No, I rather like you, you’re sassy. How much, for whatever it is that you do here for a new customer?”

“Five thousand mun for a cup of tea and conversation for an hour with me.” Jinyoung answered straight away, expecting this, if nothing else, to finally deter the man, but the man simply blinked and nodded, the smirk ever present.

“Deal.”

It was only then that Jinyoung realized he had been tricked, making an offer for his time for a newcomer, and one he didn’t like, either. It was too late to back off now, not because Jinyoung couldn’t, because everyone at the Red Orchid could choose their customers, but because his pride wouldn’t have let him.

He extended one hand towards the newcomer. He usually had appointments, and his customers would pay at the end of the session or at the entrance before they left, but he couldn’t really be sure if this client would be able to pay him, so. The man caught on quickly enough, placing a simple money pouch out of silk into Jinyoung’s palm, and Jinyoung weighed it for a moment. It seemed like it would be enough and probably some more, so the stranger was right, he could just about afford an hour with Jinyoung.

Placing the pouch into the folds of his robes, Jinyoung pursed his lips into a tight line, standing up gracefully before turning to the newcomer, who had become his customer now. “Alright then, this way, my lord.”

Usually Jinyoung brought his customers to his favorite room, specially prepared for him with the best view over the garden, but he lead the newcomer to the common tea rooms. One of the younger companions, Chaeyoung, was taking orders for the tea rooms, and although she was surprised to see Jinyoung there, she didn’t show it much. Jinyoung was proud of her. She accepted the money pouch from him, and he ordered jasmine tea for him and his company, taking one of the empty rooms.

Jinyoung was the picture perfect companion as he guided the newcomer to the tea room, holding the door open and sitting opposite to the man by the low tea table in the middle of the small room only after the man had seated himself. Their silence continued, stretching awkwardly, but Jinyoung was taking the time to observe the newcomer better now that he didn’t have to crane his head to do so. Compared to Jinyoung’s neat way of sitting, perfectly on his calves like he had been trained to, the man sat relaxedly, one leg folded half under him and the other. The simple robes and dark pants he wore were clean enough, only some specks of mud to be seen in the pants of his legs, and the way he was sitting was pulling his robes open just a little, revealing a sliver of a tanned upper chest. Nobility would not be seen in robes such as the man wore, which made it curious that he would be friends of some sort with Yoo Youngjae and be able to easily afford to give up five thousand mun on something that he clearly didn’t consider worth his time. Being a soldier or mercenary explained the clothing, but even the ones higher up preferred wearing silk over the cotton they would wear out on the field. Jinyoung didn’t come much in contact with others than those that could afford wearing silk no matter what. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

“I can see you thinking. You can ask, you know. I thought the hour was also for conversation.”

Jinyoung’s eyes snapped up to the man’s face, and the lazy smirk was back, or maybe it had never left. Thankfully, there was a rap at the door, and Jinyoung slid over to receive their pot of tea, pouring them cups of it with no less grace than he had while performing a tea ceremony, although this was far less complicated and much more mundane.

With their cups of tea here and their hour officially started, Jinyoung lifted his gaze again to the newcomer’s face, his manners soft but his tongue nonetheless sharp. “I was wondering how a soldier who wears simple cotton comes to the sort of wealth that they can afford to spend five thousand mun on something they don’t see the appeal of.”

At least the man knew how to hold a tea cup, and his nails were neat, a sign that he took care of himself and that he hadn’t at least recently done manual work. His teeth were in good shape too, something Jinyoung noted as the man’s smile widened. If nothing else, Jinyoung was doing his job well amusing this man, if the sparkle in his eyes was anything to go by.

“One man’s trash is another one’s treasure. Cotton robes may not be a symbol of status and wealth, but they’re comfortable, and a welcome change for any soldier who is used to wearing armor.”

“Is the money another man’s treasure too?” Jinyoung quipped, and at this man the man outright laughed. Despite his dislike towards the newcomer, the companion found himself glad that he hadn’t insulted the other man, and Jinyoung told himself it was because his reputation was at stake, any customer that he accepted as his own should be treated in a way that would not harm him or the Red Orchid. Not because the laugh was a pleasant sound, sparking something inside of Jinyoung that he didn’t understand, making him want to join the other in his laughter.

“No, I did not steal it, but the fact that I arrived with a noble should speak enough about my reputation. I heard that you have to have either a recommendation or a ton of money to be allowed entry here? Really going for that exclusive status, I see.”

“Supply and demand. We have a limited supply, so the demand has to be regulated somehow. It’s only natural,” Jinyoung answered, lifting the cup of tea to his mouth delicately, taking a small sip. He already knew that the man underrated his intellect, so acting coy by lowering his eyes while he showed glimpses of his knowledge was the game Jinyoung was going to play. People tended to underestimate the pretty ones.

He was pleased to note the impressed expression on the stranger’s face, eyebrows rising again in surprise. The crook to the man’s lips told Jinyoung that he was delighted by the banter the companion was providing, and somehow, Jinyoung found himself glad that he was proving his company to be enjoyable for the other man, despite the fact that he had wanted to shoo the man away earlier. The way the man’s eyes curved when he was happy was undeniably attractive, and Jinyoung was too quickly warming up to the plainly dressed man. “I’m starting to see the appeal.”

As their conversation progressed, Jinyoung had to grudgingly admit to himself that his first impression of the tall man in simple robes had been too harsh. They started discussing the book Jinyoung had been reading up until the point he had, and his client was obviously well versed in literature and allegories, which was something Jinyoung had not expected of him, even after the declaration that the man had supposedly read the book Jinyoung had only acquired this week. Jinyoung found the declaration true. It was also obvious that the man had seen a lot of the world, and as Jinyoung had never left Hanseong, he was thrilled to hear about how the books did the depictions of weather conditions on a ship or in a snowy mountain range no justice. For him, it was a rare treat when he left the Red Orchid, and that was usually only to act as the host or entertainer at a dinner or a celebration. This newcomer, however, had ridden the countryside of Joseon, sailed for months on ships to visit other countries and had seen things Jinyoung had only read in books. Of course Jinyoung would be intrigued to hear what he had to say.

The hour that Jinyoung had dreaded beforehand was over too fast, Chaeyoung knocking the door frame gently to inform them that an hour had passed. It snapped them out of their reverie, and Jinyoung found that at some point of the conversation, a genuine smile had slipped onto his face to push aside the blank mask he had strived to hold at the beginning.

“Thank you, Chaeyoung-ah, we’ll be right out.”

The man was scratching his neck bashfully, and Jinyoung found the habit oddly endearing. They rose, and Jinyoung was adjusting his robes, making sure that they would fall impeccably, when the newcomer seemed to notice something.

“Is that a letter?” He asked, pointing towards Jinyoung’s chest, and Jinyoung noticed that one edge of the envelope Boa had given him earlier that morning was sticking out of his robes.

“Ah, yes,” Jinyoung answered, making sure to tug the envelope back fully into his robes that it wouldn’t be visible. It was supposed to be the highlight of his afternoon, but now he found that he had had a delightful time even without it, forgetting about the whole thing. “One could say so. It’s a poem from one of my regulars, she is talented in the arts and gifts them to me.”

The newcomer hummed non-committedly, and the companion took that as his cue to direct them back to the main hall. Chaeyoung came to return the man’s money pouch, and Jinyoung was surprised to note that it still looked like it had some weight to it, although he knew Chaeyoung would know what amount to remove for Jinyoung’s services. From Jinyoung’s experience, that usually meant foreign silver instead of copper muns, a piece of information that didn’t surprise him as much after he had heard the man tell about his travels.

There were a lot of curious eyes on them as they entered the lounge, mostly from the other companions, but they knew enough about Jinyoung and his schedule that him taking a newcomer for a session, especially without glowing references and an appointment made beforehand, was more than out of the ordinary: it was unheard of. Jinyoung paid no attention to them, escorting his customer to the doorway that lead out of the companion lounge. They stopped there, Jinyoung’s hands folded neatly in front of him and for once, he was not sure what to say. Usually, he would just bid his farewell here, but for some reason he didn’t understand himself, he hesitated.

The man was standing in front of him, their heights similar but the customer’s shoulders broader than his. Jinyoung was very aware of the contrast between them, his skin pale, barely ever seeing the sun and his clothes the most expensive silk that could be found, light makeup on his face and hair tied up with a hairpin worth more than what he made in a year, and that was a lot. The man standing in front of him had well tanned skin, suffered under harsh rays far beyond the skyline Jinyoung could see from the highest room at the Red Orchid, and plain, dark robes, made of materials Jinyoung hadn’t worn since he had been old enough to know not to get his clothes dirty.

Although this man didn’t look around like a newcomer anymore, he didn’t look like he belonged here. Jinyoung had never felt troubled by the fact that he didn’t know if a client would come back for him or not, as there was always a new one to fill their place if they decided to drop Jinyoung for whatever reason. For the first time Jinyoung felt like asking a customer if they would like to see him again.

It was a silly thought, and Jinyoung didn’t know what had overcome him to even entertain that for a second, but he quickly collected himself, pulling on a polite smile and bowing farewell. “I hope you enjoyed your stay, my lord, and thought it worth your time and money. Welcome again to the Red Orchid, if it pleases you, my lord.”

“So if I write a letter, would you accept it?” The words came out rather rushed, which surprised Jinyoung, and he straightened out from his bow to regard the newcomer with curiosity, tilting his head the slightest to the side. Although the man’s tanned skin made it harder to detect, Jinyoung was sure that he was blushing, and all the signs pointed to the man feeling nervous, which was a first during the short time that they had known.

“I only accept letters and gifts from my regulars,” Jinyoung answered truthfully, still trying to decipher the other man.

“How many times do I have to visit to be a regular?”

A slow smile spread on Jinyoung’s face, more on the side of smug than he would have maybe liked, but he couldn’t resist. “Today was an exception. I don’t do appointments like these.”

The companion had hoped to tease the other man, but it clearly hadn’t worked, because something flickered in the taller man’s hooded eyes and a smirk spread on his face again, his confidence back. “Doesn’t that make me special then?”

Jinyoung couldn’t help it, the newcomer’s words made him burst into a laugh, and he had to raise his hand in haste to be able to cover his mouth.

“You’re really pretty when you laugh.” The compliment was sudden, as Jinyoung’s customer had been just silent for a moment, watching the companion with a sparkle in his eyes, and Jinyoung had been more expecting another confident statement than a sincere compliment.

Jinyoung collected himself, the corners of his lips still twitching, and lowered his hand back to where he folded them in front of himself. “Thank you.”

The man’s smile was bright, almost blinding, and so different from his smug smirks. Jinyoung thought that he liked the man’s smile, too. “Alright, I will see you another time then. Have a nice evening.” With that, he left, turning his back to Jinyoung and not looking back as he went through the curtains hanging over the entrance to the hall, the servants manning the door holding them open just long enough for him to make his way past, and then he was out of Jinyoung’s sights again.

And Jinyoung tried, tried going back to his evening and having an enjoyable one, but his thoughts were more occupied by the newcomer Yoo Youngjae had brought than he would have liked. Bambam had immediately intercepted him after the newcomer had left, insisting that Jinyoung tell him  _ everything,  _ and… 

There wasn’t much to tell. Jinyoung realized he hadn’t even found out the name of his latter visitor today, and nothing much had really happened, aside from the shocking fact that Jinyoung had taken someone as his client on a whim. Bambam kept repeating how extraordinary that was enough times that Jinyoung left the hall of companions earlier than he had intended to, retiring to his chamber with the excuse of reading and responding to the poem he had received from Boa earlier.

He tried, but he couldn’t focus. He read the words over and over, Boa’s brushwork impeccable as usual and the frail paper expertly decorated, but his thoughts kept returning back to the short hour spent in the regular tea rooms. He kept trying to decipher the mystery of the man that had appeared before him today, insisting on his time despite of not even knowing what it was good for. Boa’s poems usually brought Jinyoung joy, but after half an hour of staring at the paper, he carefully folded the letter back into the envelope, giving up on being able to decipher its meaning today.

Traitorously, his mind wondered what his mystery man would make of the poem, what sort of allegories he would see in the words Boa had chosen to depict a story this time, but he quickly shook his head in an attempt to dislodge thoughts like those. It would do no good for him to dwell on his clients. Usually he had no problem keeping the influence of the people he had accepted as his customers limited to the moments they paid for, with few exceptions like Boa and her poems, which was… harmless. His thoughts lingering on the odd man he had encountered today wasn’t. Jinyoung did not know the man well enough to interpret his intentions, and the man was far too much a mystery, much unlike the people he had typically seen at the Red Orchid, for him to be able to predict what the man with the double moles and a lazy smirk would do next.

Jinyoung stood and walked over to his vanity, taking the hair pin out of his hair. It was heavy, out of pure gold, rivaling those worn by the queens and princesses at the castle, he had been told. Mrs. Kim had given it to him, the gold design depicting a single orchid, a symbol of his position at the Red Orchid. He wore it with pride, although it was more heavy than was practical and more showy than he would have liked to be, because of what it symbolized. He was the pride of Red Orchid, its crown jewel, making the most money despite the fact that he never sold his body.

And as the crown jewel of the most renowned tea house in Hanseong, Jinyoung would take the memory of the newcomer he had taken as his client today and lock it away in a box like he did to his hair pin, stashing away until it was needed again. If the man kept his word, Jinyoung would see him again, and if he didn’t, it was not a loss that Jinyoung would feel, neither in his finances or his mind. He had only met the man today. There should be no reason why such a brief meeting would leave such a deep impression on him, when he had seen people come and go for years without his heart moving towards them at all.

It felt easier said than done, pushing thoughts of the man aside, but Jinyoung was resolute, setting to his nightly routine of removing his makeup and the fancy robes. He spent longer than necessary brushing his hair with one of the jade combs he has gotten as a gift over the years, trying to meditate when his thoughts would start to stray, and it soothed him. When he finally placed the comb down on its spot on his vanity, his thoughts felt calmer, more collected. He felt back in control.

Despite it all, Jinyoung’s dreams still hung onto the image of the face of the man burned in his mind, the hue of his eyes and the dip of his chest where his robes had fallen open just some when he had sat. Waking up the next morning, his mind was composed again, and he set himself to the mundane of the tea house, preparing for the dinner he would be entertaining at that night instead of letting his thoughts wander, and it worked.

He just couldn’t quite shake the way those sharp eyes had bored into him, interest and mirth sparkling in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /flails around/ I have no idea what I'm doing… but I'm having fun, so we will see how that works out for me.
> 
> Let me know what you think ♥


	2. Second Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that you don’t get confused: I’m using the Chinese names for Jackson (Wang Jiaer) and Mark (Tuan Yien) as it really makes no sense for them to have English names in this universe :D
> 
> New terms you need to know:  
> Gayageum = A traditional Korean zither-like string instrument  
> Kukicha = A fancy Japanese green tea blend
> 
> Also, I’m using Korean Joseon-era measurements etc. to the best of my knowledge, but as the English term for Chi is “Korean inch”, I’ll be referring to that just as an inch.

Jinyoung should have expected it, when he spotted Yoo Youngjae sitting amongst the guests at the dinner table, or at least he should have considered the possibility, but if the thought ever crossed his mind, it was wiped aside as quickly as it came. He was really not prepared to meet the man that had thrown him off of his game so soon again, when he expected that there would be days, if not weeks, before he would pay Jinyoung again a visit. If he even would.

It was a large dinner party hosted by one Mr. Yang Hyunsuk, one of Jinyoung’s least favorite regulars and the head of one most powerful noble families of the kingdom. Jinyoung was there with several others to put on a show, to entertain and to pour alcohol for the guests, taking part into conversation where they were invited. They had requested specifically for the best of the best that Red Orchid had to offer, so of course Jinyoung was there, although as the crown jewel and the cherry on the top, he didn’t come out until the first courses were served, performing as the main show.

Wonpil, one of the most talented companions they had when it came to playing instruments, was accompanying him on the gayageum as he danced for the party. The fan dance was a favorite performance of Jinyoung’s. It allowed him to showcase his talents while playing to his alluring, mysterious image, and working with Wonpil was always a pleasure. Dancing like this, Jinyoung was able to please and wow with the precision and gracefulness of his movements, and there was a certain freedom he felt while dancing, having the choice to move to the music in a way he deemed appropriate. The music and Jinyoung’s dance always fit together to tell a story. Although for most parts Jinyoung preferred to remain at the Red Orchid and have one-on-one sessions, if he could dance in front of an audience, a dinner party could be enjoyable too.

The sounds of the gayageum, Jinyoung’s soft steps and the ruffle of his heavy silk robes, accompanied by the occasional jingle from the golden bells of his hairpin were the only sounds in the room, everyone captured by his performance. Just like Jinyoung wanted.

If the man hadn’t left such an impression on Jinyoung, Jinyoung was sure he wouldn’t have recognized him, not at a glance like this. He looked so different, dressed in scarlet and black silk robes, eyes lined like all the nobles did, and skin tone made look more even and light with powder. But the pose he was sitting in was the same, although this time his robes stayed closed, and his dark eyes, locking with Jinyoung’s the moment they met, had the same sharpness and sparkle to them as before.

For just a split second Jinyoung faltered, his move from one to the other just a bit off-beat, barely noticeable. He averted his eyes from the man, his mind spinning even as he tried to bring it back to the dance, back to the music and into the movement. What was the man doing here? Why was he in cotton robes yesterday if he owned silk robes like the ones he was wearing today? Why was the person whom Jinyoung had assumed to be a soldier or a mercenary in a dinner meeting with politicians, scholars and powerful nobles?

Yoo Youngjae being there answered some questions. The man had arrived with the noble at the Red Orchid yesterday, so it was obvious he must hold some status, especially since he had the money to spend on pleasures like an hour with the crown jewel of the most expensive companion house around. Jinyoung liked reading people from what they wore, how they spoke and what they said; he could usually tell quite well where they were coming from and what type of background they had, especially when it concerned people from the higher classes, those that could afford to spend time in the same room as him. This man, however, was a mystery. Something Jinyoung hadn’t seen before. He felt inexplicably drawn to the man, and he was unsure if it was because the man was such a mystery to him, or if it was something else, a pure interest in the man. He would like to think it was the former so that the man would be just a mental exercise to him, an anomaly to throw his wits against to explain it, a puzzle to solve to abide his time. It was more than likely a bit of both.

Jinyoung finished his dance, closing his fan slowly, with flourish. Wonpil let the last notes hang in the air artfully, only getting up when Jinyoung broke his stance to bow as their audience broke into applause. He didn’t allow his eyes stray over to his newcomer from yesterday. He walked before Wonpil behind the screens hiding a small part of the room, allowing his friend to dab the sheen of sweat from his temples with a napkin and apply more powder to make him presentable again.

There was a question in Wonpil’s eyes as he carefully fixed Jinyoung’s makeup. Of course he had noticed his faltering. Thankfully, the musician did not ask, but after all, the screens they were behind were only meant to hide them from sight, not sound. This was not the place for a conversation about why Jinyoung would falter now, when they had done the routine together for years without hitch, and neither was there time for that, as they were expected to join the other companions in pouring the next toast as the main course would be served a moment later.

As the most expensive and prestigious companion present, Jinyoung was of course expected to pour for the host of the evening. Perhaps thankfully, Jinyoung’s duty kept him as far away as he could get from the man that had made him falter earlier, leaving no chance for conversation mined with potential slip-ups. So, Jinyoung did what he did best, chatting with the people around him, pouring more tea and soju for those sitting nearest to the most important person around the table, giving modest smiles and tilts of his head. He knew exactly how to play a crowd like this to have them eating off his palm and shower him and the Red Orchid with praise.

Jinyoung also knew how get-togethers like this one worked. The right people were gathered for a night of dinner and entertainment, politicians, members from noble families, relevant handymen. It was never not political or a power play, the food, alcohol and entertainment meant to make all more amenable to the hosts and their cause. When the night had went long enough, a proposal would be made or a plan would be discussed further, either with the entertainers present or after they left, depending on the severity and secrecy of the matter. Jinyoung had been an entertainer at many these types of events, the Red Orchid being on the more expensive, respected and discreet side, making its entertainers the popular choice for especially high-ranked nobles. Especially since Mr. Yang was the host for tonight, it was natural that Red Orchid was chosen, the man favoring all things most expensive and beautiful. Jinyoung wanted to scrunch his nose in distaste, but he never, ever would.

The answer to the reason for the presence of Jinyoung’s mystery customer here was not hard to understand, when considered with the backdrop of what events like these were usually for. The man was to play an important part in a scheme orchestrated by the people Jinyoung was serving, a tool to fulfill whatever purpose Mr. Yang and his men wanted. Someone who would get his hands dirty for them, who would face the danger and take on the blame if anything went wrong. From what Jinyoung was aware, Mr. Yang’s political interests were against the current, respected, but rather old King, and his young, nowhere near of age Crown Prince.

It was really none of Jinyoung’s business.

He could feel the man’s eyes on him many times during the night, but Jinyoung did not glance towards his direction again. He kept his sleeves down, handled the soju jugs with soft fingers and precise movements, and played his part. He made sure to fill the cups of the old lords he was serving to the brim every time he poured, a small act of defiance that no one would notice and that would have little effect, but made him feel moderately better for reasons Jinyoung chose to not seek to explain.

The companions were dismissed after sweet snacks were served and before whatever it was that made the host family spend so much money on this gathering was revealed. That meant that the matter discussed was too important to risk be overheard by outsiders, even the most discreet and well reputed ones. That by itself did not bode well for the man Jinyoung barely knew, but, as he kept reminding himself, it was none of his concern.

He purposely hung back enough to be the last one to leave the room. As he turned to close the door behind them, he allowed his eyes to travel over to the mysterious man, seated among people to whose company he didn’t belong. His head was turned to face the head of the table, showcasing to Jinyoung the profile of his face, the strength of his jaw and the sharp but jagged line of his nose. What really stroke Jinyoung however, was that the man was looking at him from the side of his eye, gaze unwavering as it met Jinyoung’s, and something passed in his expression as he noticed Jinyoung was looking at him too.

This time, however, Jinyoung didn’t falter. He was the first to turn his eyes away, lowering them as he bowed to the room while closing the door. He had closed enough pull doors in his life to know how to do it with as little sound as the woodwork would allow, but still, it felt like there was a thud resounding somewhere in his chest when he closed the door between them.

Jinyoung did not let it show. He had perfected the mask of serenity and composure over the years, and there was very little if anything that would make it slip off.

  
  
  


It was harder to try and lock away the memory of the man the second time, the new information added to it making Jinyoung curiouser about the man and what his immediate future would be. However, having seen beneath the surface, behind the scenes of a play and into the room with politicians and power-hungry noble families and the traveler sitting amongst them, Jinyoung was even less sure that he would see the man again. After all, he had seen something that the mysterious man had probably not wanted for him to see.

Days went by without the mystery man appearing at the companion house, and Jinyoung accepted it. His usual customers visited him according to their usual schedule, without surprises. Jinyoung wrote the most beautiful poem he had written to date as an answer to Boa, and when he met with her the following week, she was greatly pleased with him. He finished the book he was reading, choosing instead of picking up a new one to practice his calligraphy and read some lighter poetry. He sat in the companion lounge more than usual, and Mrs. Kim was more than glad he did, as having more of the gems of the house sitting on the balcony for the customers to view always seemed to attract more of them to return and ask after said more expensive companions, although Jinyoung insisted that he wouldn’t be taking any more regulars right now. The others were more than happy to take over the returning customers refused by him and make them their own, and Red Orchid would make more profit in general, which was a benefit for them all.

Later that week Jinyoung got a visit from his oldest returning customer, Mr. Park Jinyoung, the man who had scouted him from his very first performance and watched over his progress over the years. Jinyoung was the replacement of a son Mr. Park never had, and he was glad for the guidance and wisdom that had been imparted to him over the years on Mr. Park’s recurring visits. The man had always encouraged him on his training, brought him books in foreign languages and guided him both in his study of literature, languages and the arts.

Even though Jinyoung always did his best to impress his customers and worked hard on his studies and his art, Mr. Park had always been the one he wanted to be proud of him the most, right after Mrs. Kim, of course. Mr. Park was like a father to him, the result of a relationship built over numerous years. He knew Jinyoung from when the companion didn’t know yet how to control his expressions, when he still faltered while dancing and before his voice had gone through puberty, and since he didn’t visit Jinyoung too often due to his travels as an ambassador of the kingdom, he noticed the changes in him better than the people who saw him daily or weekly did. Of course he would be the one to notice that something was bothering Jinyoung even when he had done his utmost to hide just that.

They were discussing The Eight Dog Chronicles, the book Mr. Park had gotten him from the previous trip he had made to Edo and that the companion had just finished reading. Jinyoung felt always very comfortable in Mr. Park’s presence, which is possibly why he didn’t notice his attention slipping, or maybe Mr. Park was just far too proficient at seeing behind the appearances the companion liked to keep for Jinyoung’s taste.

“You seem distracted. Has something interesting happened while I was gone?” The older male prompted gently, the expression on his face as kind as his tone, and Jinyoung snapped back to attention, mortified that he had shown disrespect towards one of his most dear and valued customers and oldest friends by being absent minded during one of their rare sessions. It was just that discussing the book, Jinyoung had been reminded of his conversation with the mystery man about the symbolism of peonies and the developing role of dogs in the story, and apparently his thoughts drifting on different tracks had shown.

If it was anyone else, Jinyoung would have whipped out a fan to cover half of his face while gathering his composure, but Mr. Park was the one who had taught him that trick, and he did not want to insult the man further by attempting to use it against him, so Jinyoung lowered his gaze instead, showing remorse.

He also respected the man enough to tell him the truth, having confided in him a lot during the years. “I’m sorry, Mr. Park. I had a… distracting customer the previous week. I was just remembering his thoughts on the role of peonies in the story.”

“Ah,” Mr. Park exclaimed as an answer, his tone understanding and eyes as gentle as ever when Jinyoung raised his to meet his gaze again. “He must have been interesting, if you took him as a customer,” He stated simply, not prying, only letting Jinyoung talk. It was one of the things Jinyoung liked and respected about the man the most.

“He was,” Jinyoung admitted easily, fighting the urge to bite his cheek while contemplating how to word his thoughts. It was a bad habit he had learned off while he was younger. “He was a first-timer, taken here by a friend, and yet he was brave enough to come to talk to me on the balcony, despite not understanding the appeal of companions and why time with us should cost so much.”

Mr. Park hummed in agreement. “Yes, that does sounds curious. You discussed The Eight Dog Chronicles with him?”

“Yes, he very much tricked me into giving him an hour.” Jinyoung chuckled at the memory before he could stop himself, but quickly continued his explanation in order to cover it up. “His appearance and manners did not suggest he would have come from wealth and intellect, but clearly he had enough of both as he had already read the book and he had the money to spend an hour with me without so much as flinching on the mention of the price.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Mr. Park admitted, eyes sparkling as a slow smile spread on his face, his thoughts remaining hidden from Jinyoung. Somehow, even after all these years, Jinyoung had not learned to guess what Mr. Park was thinking. “Did you catch his name?”

Jinyoung shook his head, pursing his lips. He wasn’t sure he liked the almost mischievous expression on the older man’s face, because it implied that the man was finding something amusing about the fact that Jinyoung got tricked and surprised, and Jinyoung felt like he was getting teased. “No, and he hasn’t come by again.” 

Jinyoung did not mention that he had seen him at a dining event with some of the most influential politicians and families in town, but that was something that fell under the clauses of silence required of him as a companion anyway. Mr. Park didn’t seem to notice the omission or he didn’t mind, humming again before taking a sip of the beautiful green kukicha he had bought as a gift for Jinyoung to prepare for him. It was quickly becoming Jinyoung’s new favorite tea, the color bright and the smell and taste of it fragrant even after several brews.

They returned to discussing the book again, and Mr. Park had him choose and read out his favorite passages, checking up on his Japanese pronunciation and reading speed, and Jinyoung was proud to show that he had improved again, proud to receive the praise he got from the man closest to a father that he had.

Besides the conversation he had had with Mr. Park, everything else was the same old routine. Jinyoung liked routine. He wasn’t sure why he wanted something to come and break it up. He got his wish soon enough though, because the next time he came to sit in the companion lounge after having spent most of the day with another one of his regulars, Bambam came up to him with a barely contained bounce of excitement in his step.

“Guess who dropped by,” He sing-songed, and Jinyoung’s heart jumped at the thought of who he  _ hoped _ had come. Thankfully, Bambam knew his distaste for guessing games, or maybe the younger was just too excited to wait for Jinyoung’s answer, because he continued, “It was your newcomer in cotton from last time, and he was  _ sooo _ disappointed you were occupied. You’re lucky I was here, because he didn’t even know your  _ name _ when he asked for you, and they almost didn’t let him inside because he wasn’t with Yoo Youngjae this time and his name wasn’t on the list. You never mentioned me his name, by the way, it was only luck that he was loud enough by the door for me to be curious enough to go out and see what was happening!”

Jinyoung felt a little self-conscious, and because he was with Bambam, he felt comfortable enough to indulge in the nervous habit of fiddling with the edges of his sleeves with his fingertips. “I don’t actually know his name,” he admitted grudgingly, and as expected, this prompted a flurry of laughter from the younger, layers of sheer fabric fluttering around him as his body shook from his giggles. Jinyoung would find it adorable, if Bambam were not laughing at him.

“Well,” Bambam said when he finally calmed down, “One Mr. Im Jaebum came asking for ‘the expensive bookworm from the balcony’, and I told him to check back tomorrow. Tried to convince him to have tea with me, but he wouldn’t have it. I don’t remember when I’ve been last rejected like this, it was very disappointing.”

The message left Jinyoung feeling both annoyed and to some degree, excited. There was also some satisfaction or pride at the knowledge that this Mr. Im had refused Bambam, a feat many didn’t manage when the gorgeous Thai boy with legs for hours set his mind on seducing someone.

Bambam grinned knowingly when Jinyoung sat himself in the companion lounge the following day much earlier than he usually would, and Jinyoung exacted petty revenge by smudging Bambam’s lip makeup right as the Thai companion’s favorite customer stepped in, prompting the boy to leave to fix his makeup, only to come back to find Yugyeom under Jinyoung’s arm, the older companion whispering something into the young lord’s ear that made the tall young lord flush a bright scarlet. Bambam stomped over to them with far less grace than usual, grabbing Yugyeom’s arm and dragging him away from a laughing Jinyoung, mouth hidden coyly behind the sleeve of his robe and eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What a sight, seeing you tease friends of yours.” The low rumble was familiar, and Jinyoung’s heart leaped in his chest. He didn’t need to turn to the man to know who it was, but he still did, if just to be polite and to see those dark, hooded eyes sparkling at him.

“Good day, Mr. Im. Pleasure for you to grace us with your presence,” Jinyoung said with not a little sneer in his voice, lowering his sleeves to grasp his hands perfectly in front of him and giving a small bow.

“Ouch. Miss me that much, Jinyoung-ah?” There was a grin both in Im Jaebum’s voice and on his face. They both had now showed off that they knew each other’s names now.

“Not at all,” Jinyoung answered airily, walking past the broad man towards his balcony, like he didn’t know the man’s intentions for turning up here. He moved so suddenly that the hanging golden bells in his heavy orchid hairpin let out a small jingle, something Jinyoung preferred to avoid when he wasn’t dancing, something that he thought to be a sign of his composure when he could keep them silent even while he walked and moved. He scolded himself for his slip-up.

“Ah, Bambammie said you were a tricky one –” Oh, so he was on first-name terms with Bambam, also. Jinyoung picked up the scroll he had been reviewing to study its calligraphy, happy with any excuse to keep ignoring the man clothed in as plain clothing as the first time he had entered the Red Orchid and disturbed Jinyoung’s life. Jinyoung found he rather liked the flustered shade to the man’s voice, liked for him to suffer a little for the time he had made the companion wait. (They had no commitmets to one another, a small voice in the back of Jinyoung’s head tried to remind him, but he was too engrossed in this game of cat and mouse to care) “– but, pretty flower, I came here for you, you know that.”

That was already better, and Jinyoung rewarded it with a glance to the man’s face over to where he had stayed off of the balcony, at least knowing that rule, apparently.

“You do know, my lord, that I have no obligation towards you,” Jinyoung said slowly, calculatedly, reminding himself as much as the other. He wanted to make sure that this Mr. Im knew that Jinyoung had all the power in this situation, that if the companion just said the word, the man would be thrown out and never let onto these premises again.

“I know, I,” There was an expression of something like desperation on the man’s face, and Jinyoung almost felt bad for going this far. The expression was quickly schooled to a more controlled one, something Jinyoung appreciated as a skill on anyone, although he very much liked his ability to apparently make Mr. Im lose his cool and show more on his face than he liked. “Just hoped to see your pretty face, although it cost me more than reasonable to breathe the same air as you again. If you don’t have the time to spare, I’ll take my leave.”

Jinyoung’s heart softened, and at the same time the fact that he had, despite all attempts to tamp the feeling down, hoped to see this man again, raised a bit of panic inside him. He didn’t want the man to leave again after just seeing him for barely a moment.

The companion set the scroll down again with a pretentiously frustrated sigh, not having read even one character on it. He levelled the plainly dressed man with a bored gaze, although his heart was fluttering with a mix of something like excitement or nervousness. “Do I have to show you my worth again, my lord? Have you already forgotten?”

The smug grin that spread on that handsome tan face made Jinyoung almost regret giving in. Almost, but not quite. “I could use the reminder.”

  
  
  


Jinyoung would have had both the time and warning to prepare his favorite room to receive a customer, but technically, he had no appointment today, no reason to have his room prepared. It wasn’t new that Jinyoung liked to keep his distance, but especially since it felt like this man with the hooded, cat-like eyes and twin moles above his left one got under his skin far too easily, he wanted to keep him at an arm’s length, on every level. Only meeting him in the common tea rooms was supposed to make it feel less like Jinyoung would be giving Mr. Im special treatment. It didn’t change the fact to Jinyoung that he was.

But for now, he focused on making the five thousand muns be worth it for the man as they fell into easy, intellectual conversation again. They discussed The Eight Dog Chronicles now in full, and as Jinyoung had suspected, the insights the man had were as delightful as the first time they had discussed the book. He allowed his eyes to roam the man’s frame freely this time, his high cheekbones, sharp nose, the again presented sliver of tanned chest, the dark and plain cotton robes he wore. He was looking very much like the man that had visited the Red Orchid two weeks ago instead of the man he had seen at Mr. Yang’s dinner.

The traveler had his eyes fixed firmly on the man seated before him, serving them both tea. Jinyoung was familiar with the type of appreciating looks the man was gracing the companion with. Jinyoung had chosen some of his best robes for today, the dark navy base color of them complimented his pale skin and the golden details were repeated in the hairpin ever present in his hair, and he had been especially meticulous about his hair and makeup today. He knew he looked perfect, his whole living was being beautiful and intelligent for others to enjoy after all, and yet. There was something about the way this Im Jaebum looked at him, and the way the man  _ looked, _ that made this different from the billion other times Jinyoung had been the target of appreciative gazes.

Jinyoung was aware that the difference was that he measuring the other man too, and not just in the way he would analyze his customers to be able to please them, noticing a new way of them doing their hair or a new accessory or anything else that might as an addition to the conversation make him a better companion. Jinyoung was  _ enjoying _ looking at the other man, at the skin darkened by sun and the pose those long limbs were folded into and the way the traveler, the stranger would occasionally gesture with his hands calmly as he talked.

Mr. Im was saying something particularly witty and Jinyoung was laughing again, trying to keep the sound light instead of succumbing to a loud, boisterous laugh.

“You have this habit of covering up your mouth when you laugh,” The tall and broad man sitting across from Jinyoung noted, his dark eyes dancing and thin lips pulled to a smile.

Jinyoung schooled his expression into a more neutral one, although there was a fond smile tugging at the edge of his lips at the memory of having heard these types of words many times before from another mouth. He was feeling relaxed, so he allowed himself to bring the topic of conversation more towards himself from the rather general topics they had covered so far. “Jiaer, one of our guards, says the same thing. He insists that I should let my teeth show when I laugh, but he’s no one to talk about how a companion should act anyway.”

The tanned man sent him a look accompanied by a single raised eyebrow. Jinyoung kind of hated how good Im Jaebum looked, and he tried to focus on all the flaws the man had: the imperfections on his skin from being in the sun too much, the scar on his neck, the moles on his face and chest, but none of these things seemed to make him less attractive in Jinyoung’s eyes. “Do some rules govern how you should or shouldn’t laugh?”

Jinyoung didn’t stop the urge to roll his eyes. They had been on the level of (more or less) friendly banter from the very start with this Mr. Im anyway, so he wasn’t afraid to show his mind. “Of course not, we are meant to entertain. But subtlety is an art we are meant to convey through our actions, whether it is to seduce or to show intellect or to practice the arts, and laughing with my mouth hanging open or doubling over could hardly be described as subtle.” Jinyoung chuckled, his smile fond again as he thought about his friend. “Jiaer knows nothing about subtlety. It’s why he’s not a companion.”

The smirk on the man’s face was  _ far _ from subtle. “And how, pray tell, does someone like you subtly seduce someone?” He chuckled, and it was a nice sound, but his words were a jab at Jinyoung’s (professional, he told himself) pride. “Don’t take it wrong, you’re undoubtedly attractive, but someone more like Bambammie – especially  _ dressed _ like Bambammie seems like they would be far more successful seducing someone with a head tilt and eyelash flutters. He tried it, before,” He added, and that was the final straw. “It was definitely enticing.”

Jinyoung was being baited, obviously, but maybe he didn’t care. He flashed a smile too wide and bright, his eyes narrowing at the same time, a predator closing in on its prey.

“Allow me to pour some more tea.” He said deceptively sweetly.

So far Jinyoung had been pouring tea from across the table with perfect manners and movements, but this time he scooted over to the traveler’s side, feet and knees adeptly moving him across the wooden floor without rustling his robes too much. He didn’t look at the man, keeping a calm expression on his face as he pretended that his full focus was on the act of pouring the tea. And it was the subtle things; the way he craned his neck so that more of his neckline would be fully shown to the man, the way he came close but by no means leaned towards the man, letting him catch a whiff of the scent the companion wore. The killing blow, Jinyoung’s pride, was the movement where he delicately pulled back the sleeve of his robe out of the way as he poured the tea, revealing calculatedly to the man an inch of pale skin from his wrist more than would be necessary, a sliver of skin that never showed unless he meant to flash it.

Jinyoung knew he had proved his point when Im Jaebum barely breathed while the he remained this close, and released a shaky exhale when the companion moved back to his side of the table. A confident, if not smug, smile slipped on Jinyoung’s face.

“You were saying, my lord?”

“Yeah, okay,” was the only admission Jinyoung got, but it was more than enough, especially accompanied with the rough lilt of his voice and the way the man adjusted the collar of his robe. Jinyoung was  _ pleased _ with the reaction, pleased that he was able to affect the man in that subtle, simple way, although Mr. Im tried to keep a tough act up. The way the traveler changed topics was very obvious, too. “So, uh, this Jiaer character. Who is he again?”

Jinyoung stifled a giggle behind his sleeve again and indulged the other man, allowing the change of topics. He had already won. “One of our guards. Not mine though, Yien has been assigned to me since the two of them passed their training.” Jinyoung chuckled at a memory that popped into his head, and continued, ”Yien could also have become a companion, but when it became clear that Jiaer would not, Yien took on the guard training as well. Which, now that I say it, was very unsubtle of him.” He knew Yien had heard that, and Jinyoung might have to pay for it later. Worth it.

“You seem to have quite a lot of foreigners working here,” The man pointed out, quite correctly, although they didn’t have that many on top of the ones Jinyoung had already mentioned.

“Beauty doesn’t know borders or nationality,” Jinyoung countered, and Mr. Im had to agree.

They steered to more neutral waters of conversation again, Jinyoung explaining some general things about the training they did at the Red Orchid, both for the companions and guards, as Mr. Im seemed sincerely interested. Most of those who came to Red Orchid came around three to nine summers old, and for those who showed most promise both in the terms of beauty and skills, the Red Orchid could provide a home and a livelihood. All of them were taught manners, literacy skills and household skills. Those that showed most promise in arts and beauty were taught to become different types of companions, specializing in music, literature or tea ceremonies, and those that were otherwise talented with their body learned martial arts and the skills to climb, to move quietly and to use the sword and dagger. Those that could do neither the things that were required of a companion or a guard could remain servants, or leave once they had paid enough of their debt.

The system could be considered cruel by some, but considering the background of those children that would be sent to Red Orchid or any similar establishments, being able to stay and work at the Red Orchid in any form guaranteed that they would not go hungry a day of their lives, get an education they would not be able to get elsewhere, and enough money that once they would leave either because of old age or own will, they would have a real chance of making a comfortable life elsewhere, too. It was more than what the children would ever be able to get out on the streets, considering day-to-day survival was already hard, especially come the rough and cold winds of winter. Jinyoung explained this, too.

Although the topic of conversation came close to it, Mr. Im did not ask Jinyoung about his background before the Red Orchid, and he appreciated the tact. Not that the companion would have had an answer of course, except that he was an anomaly of sorts in the sense that he had been only a baby and he had thus been his whole life at the companion house. In any case, it was a topic he would rather avoid, and perhaps Im Jaebum sensed that, with how Jinyoung avoided talking about his personal experiences.

There was a lull in conversation, and Jinyoung was aware that their time was almost up, the tea almost having run out and the light the sun was streaming into the room having changed its angle already. It was then, that the man in cotton robes brought up the subject Jinyoung had been carefully and purposefully avoiding, trying to be tactful himself by not bringing it up.

“You haven’t said anything about seeing me at Mr. Yang’s dinner.”

Jinyoung paused where he had just been taking a sip of his almost finished tea, setting the cup down on the table slowly while he took his time to formulate the correct answer. “It’s not my place to bring the subject up when it seemed like one you’d prefer to avoid, my lord.” A pause. Jinyoung did not bite his lips, knowing that it would only ruin the color carefully painted on them. He dared to be bold, and continued, ”You look very different, in proper robes, my lord, if I may say so.”

“I’ve told you, I prefer wearing these,” the man gestured to his cotton robes, and he had, yes, but Jinyoung still didn’t understand the preference. He had never heard of anyone wearing cotton robes over silk robes outside of their own household, if they had the choice. Cotton robes marked one to be of lower class, even ones that had color like Im Jaebum’s had. The man continued, “And I guess that’s very tactful of you, like should be expected.”

It was.

“Did you enjoy my performance, my lord?” Jinyoung asked before something like ‘what were you doing there’ or ‘what does Mr. Yang want from you’ could slip out. It was not his place, not his concern, none of his business.

At least this brought back a smile on the man’s face, softening the look in his cat-like eyes. He had been looking very serious since he had himself brought up the topic of the dinner. “Yes, you were perfect, my pretty flower. Graceful and delicate.”

Jinyoung tried very hard not to preen under the praise, or the subtle drop of a possessive pronoun in front of the nickname the man used, but he knew he was visibly pleased.

They were interrupted then, a knock on the doorframe to let them know their time was up. The hour passed far too quickly in Jinyoung’s opinion, and if the slight pout on the tanned man’s lips was saying anything, he must have shared the sentiment. Still, they got up without further hustle, getting Mr. Im’s money pouch back from Chaeyoung, who was watching the tea rooms again, and Jinyoung walked his customer up until the entrance of the companion lounge, much like the first time. They paused by the doorway again, turning to one another, and Jinyoung knew he would never be hearing the end. It didn’t even matter that Bambam wasn’t present, because Wonpil was, and the musician would probably be able to put one and one together now, from Jinyoung’s faltering at the dinner party to the man being here, now, receiving this type of special treatment. But Jinyoung had made his bed, and he would lay in it.

“So,” Im Jaebum begun, a smirk sliding onto his face although Jinyoung could see some hesitation, could see how the fingertips of the man betrayed his nervousness with the slightest twitch, “How many times still until I am your regular customer?”

And maybe Jinyoung was mean, maybe he liked to watch the other suffer a little, squirm as he waited for the companion’s acceptance or rejection. Jinyoung pretended to mull it for a moment, before he gave a smirk with his answer. “There are still a couple of things that need to happen before that.” He said mysteriously, but before Im Jaebum’s expression could fall or he could present additional arguments, Jinyoung continued, “But we can make an appointment, if that would suit you, my lord. How about the same time next week?” There was a hopeful tint to Jinyoung’s voice, but he hoped it wasn’t too obvious. He wanted to see the man again, wanted to have a guarantee, a date when they would meet once more.

Thankfully, the man’s expression softened again, something fluttering in Jinyoung’s chest again at the warmth in both the man’s eyes and voice. “That sounds good.”

And if Jinyoung’s exhale was a bit stronger, if his shoulders slightly relaxed in relief, that was for no one to know. He answered the man’s smile easily. “I’ll see you, then.”

The farewell was rather awkward, but at least it was brief. Jinyoung did not feel like lingering by the door, attempting to try and escape from the clutches of his fellow companions, before they would have the time to pose too many questions.

“So  _ that’s _ the commoner-looking customer that’s got Jinyoungie’s attention!” Daehyun was the first to shout when Im Jaebum was barely out of the door and definitely not out of the hearing range.

“Did you see how they were looking at each other?” Came another shout. Jinyoung barely held the grimace that would have spread on his face. It’s like the other companions had forgotten there were other customers in the lounge, too, but by now everyone’s attention was on Jinyoung’s attempt at retreating to his own chambers.

Wonpil was the cleverest of them all, having foreseen Jinyoung’s retreat and waiting for him by his room.

“That was the man from Mr. Yang’s party, wasn’t it?” Wonpil enquired, and Jinyoung had no escape, no hope to plausibly deny, so he nodded. Jinyoung had laid this bed. He had to lay in it.

“I figured. Now, spill.”

So he told Wonpil what he could, trying to emphasize that he was indulging the man because he was bored, and Im Jaebum was a breath of fresh air.

He saw from his friend’s eyes that Wonpil really didn’t believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the second chapter~
> 
> A lot of new people were introduced in this chapter again, but I’m trying my best not to overwhelm you with them! This is most of them, there are only two more ones that I have planned to introduce that I haven’t yet. Mrs. Kim remains my only OC so far, and she’s only an OC because I couldn’t come up with a Korean lady old enough that would fit the role and people would actually know her name :’)
> 
> I finally kicked myself and wrote up the actual timeline and plan for this fic, and with my current plans, this will be 7-8 chapters long, and probably total at around 50-60k for its length.
> 
> I'm still having fun, I hope you are too! Let me know what you think so far~


	3. Third Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are doing well and are taking care of yourselves :)
> 
> Things you need to know for this chapter:  
> Chief State Councillor = the highest position in Joseon court (after the king of course)  
> Left/Right State Councillor = the second highest positions in Joseon court after the ones mentioned above  
> Ge = Chinese way of saying “hyung”. I’m using this for Markson because using their Chinese names with “hyung” seems… weird  
> 白头偕老 = a Chinese saying that (as far as I’ve understood) refers to a couple living together (happy) until their hair grows white. Giving a comb as a gift (at a wedding, usually) implies this meaning.  
> Omoni = mother, and as opposed to “omonim”, “omoni” is only used when referring respectfully to one’s own mother
> 
> ALSO!! Check out [this awesome fanart](https://twitter.com/monikirogers/status/947935211664433152) made by miki!! It's gorgeoussss ♥

The next few weeks were only giving Jinyoung’s friends (or as he liked to call them, snakes in his bosom) more ammunition. Im Jaebum started visiting him every week, to  _ their _ excitement, and considering that all of Jinyoung’s friends had been trained in secrecy and discretion, they were showing none of that when it came to Jinyoung’s alleged “love life”. Jinyoung didn’t understand the massive interest – if one didn’t count the weird circumstances Jinyoung had ended up with Mr. Im as a customer, there shouldn’t be anything visibly extraordinary about their customer relationship. Jinyoung refused to see Im Jaebum more than once a week and they never went into Jinyoung’s favorite room, both of these being exactly how Jinyoung would treat any new customer who wasn’t his regular yet.

The thing was, in a way, his friends were right, but Jinyoung was irked because there should have been no reason for them to be able to tell that Im Jaebum was… special. Jinyoung really enjoyed the company of many of his customers, even cared about several of them, but… Well, he enjoyed Im Jaebum’s company, that was an easy thing to admit, but Jinyoung hadn’t known the man for long enough to justify  _ caring _ about him. And what was even worse, although several of his customers and basically all of the other companions at the Red Orchid were  _ objectively _ attractive, the way Jinyoung looked at Im Jaebum was far from being only objective admiration.

Jinyoung wasn’t scared about feeling attracted to the man, no. He was  _ annoyed _ because the attraction was strong enough to be something that the companion couldn’t control, and it edged away at his painstakingly constructed composure far too much for his liking.

The usual appreciation of someone being attractive was far easier. He could for example appreciate the symmetry and agelessness of Boa’s face and the inherent beauty and grace in everything she did, he even admired it as it seemed to come to the older woman so naturally. Jinyoung appreciated Bambam’s allure, although it was much different from his and he could never fully erase from his mind how much of a brat the boy could be sometimes, even when Bambam was in his full flirting mode, working all his charms just right.

Another example of objectively definitely very attractive was Ok Taecyeon. He was the first son of the Chief State Councillor, a well-educated, well-spoken and handsome man, with a tall and broad body and kind face. Before his marriage he had been the most sought-after bachelor in Joseon, both for his family’s power and his own good looks.

Taecyeon was also one of the many that had asked after the possibility of Jinyoung selling his first time. Unlike most of them though, he had stayed long after it had become clear that the companion wasn’t yielding and giving him what he hoped for, and Jinyoung respected that. It was flattering that the man was still obviously interested in Jinyoung, especially since Jinyoung had met his wife and knew her to be both intelligent and beautiful, and of course chosen from another powerful family so that their match would be just perfect. Sometimes Jinyoung wondered why Taecyeon kept seeing him, even after the wedding, but he guessed that in the end, marriage contracts could not change one’s preferences.

In any case, handsome, sought-after Taecyeon had always been utterly gentlemanly towards Jinyoung, and his intelligence and knowledge made him someone whose company the younger easily enjoyed, so it was nothing but a compliment that the Chief State Councillor’s son still favored him. They both knew there was more meaning behind those long glances Taecyeon threw in his direction and the soft way he would hold Jinyoung’s hand on his arm when they were out for a walk, but they had an unspoken agreement to not talk about it. The companion was used to being a replacement for something or a reprieve from reality. It was his job to be a perfect daydream, better than what his customers left behind to visit him. It didn’t bother him.

The only time he had felt a stab of guilt was when he had heard that Taecyeon’s wife wore her hair like his and got her clothes made in a similar style to Jinyoung’s. He felt sorry for her, but in the end, the situation was not the fault of any of them. It was rare that the high families of Joseon got to marry for love, especially for a reciprocated one. She had gotten what she had wanted, and yet she hadn’t, not truly.

It was just the way things were. Jinyoung’s job was to help his customers forget, if even for just a couple of hours.

Taecyeon had brought him a new book. He knew perfectly the type of genre Jinyoung liked, and the younger graced him with a smile as he accepted the gift, letting their fingers brush as a reward, the touch light, but intentional. The older man knew the gesture for what it was, and he returned Jinyoung’s smile as they moved on to converse recent matters in Joseon, a topic Jinyoung had taken special interest in after the dinner at Mr. Yang’s house. Taecyeon indulged him, of course, and as a scholar at the palace and the son of the Chief State Councillor, his knowledge was more vast and recent than what Jinyoung get from other sources, at least without raising some suspicion or getting odd glances.

“Yang Hyunsik has been given the post of Left State Councillor,” The edges of Taecyeon’s lips turned slightly down by the end of the sentence, showing his distaste although the older man rarely, if ever, explicitly voiced his political opinions. “He has been vying for it since the previous Left State Councillor’s sudden death two months ago, but the King took his time to decide until now.” Jinyoung did the calculation in his head and found himself more than relieved that it was more than week before the dinner party at Mr. Yang’s and Im Jaebum’s arrival in Hanseong. Sudden deaths were always suspicious, and it made Jinyoung feel more at ease that it was unlikely that Jaebum could be involved.

In the place of an answer, Jinyoung made a sound of acquiescence and lowered his gaze to the afternoon tea he had served for the both of them. He picked up a piece of sweet to place gracefully into his mouth, both to steal himself some time to think and to give Taecyeon something to look at as the younger traced his tongue over where a trail of powdered sugar from the preserved tangerine had remained on his painted bottom lip.

From the way Taecyeon worded the sentence Jinyoung guessed that the rumors about their King’s weakening health might be true. It was hushed talk, because questioning the strength of their King was questioning the strength of their kingdom, but it was there. Regime changes were always a tough and restless time for the Kingdom, due to the power struggles and uncertainty that followed the death of a King. Jinyoung had read countless stories about what happened when such times came to the worst, the plots that were weaved within the nobles, leading in most cases either to successful coups or total failures in which those that were found to be involved were executed in very brutal manners.

Such unrest about the ruler trickled down to the common folk, too, as nobles would pull their resources to support whatever cause they were backing. There were almost always innocents slaughtered, men sent to fight fights that weren’t theirs and less food to spare. Even though Mrs. Kim put absolute care in trying to ensure that the Red Orchid did not get caught up in politics and thus would be unlikely to be used as a pawn or be exacted revenge on, a full-blown coup could very well mean half of Hanseong burning down or soldiers barging in to tear customers from their rooms. Naturally, it was an unsettling thought. It was in the hopes of everyone out of the highest classes of the kingdom that the regime change that was looming in the future would go over smoothly.

Based on what Jinyoung knew and Taecyeon’s obvious distaste towards the name, the Yang clan was certainly planning a power play of some sorts, and more likely than not, a coup. The Ok clan was a fierce supporter of the King and the Crown Prince, so naturally they were opposed to the Yang clan, who were apparently unsatisfied with their amount of power. Knowing this, Jinyoung suspected that the King’s move to give Yang Hyunsuk the high place in his court was likely an attempt at pacifying the clan, especially if the old ruler’s health was weakening.

Jinyoung didn’t say anything, but the beauty of silence was that other people liked filling it, and in this case Taecyeon let something slip that he hadn’t meant to, huffing before complaining, “I think the old man is still bitter about his granddaughter not being chosen as the future bride for the Crown Prince.”

The gaze in Jinyoung’s eyes was sharp and perceptive when it snapped up from his tea to the older man’s face. Taecyeon’s expression betrayed that he realized that he had spoken a heavily biased opinion that revealed several things that were not for the knowledge of the general public. Jinyoung remembered that there had been talks about choosing the future bride of the Crown Prince last year, but those had quickly ended with the court revealing that Somi of the Jeon clan had been chosen. Jinyoung remembered it well, Park Jinyoung had been exhilarated about the news, as the girl was his sister’s granddaughter. New, although not surprising, information was that Mr. Yang had had his fingers in that pie, and gotten himself burned.

A grimace twisted Taecyeon’s handsome face into something less attractive for just a moment, but he smoothed it over into an apologetic smile quite quickly. “I’m sorry, I spoke hastily. Please don’t place too much weight on my words.”

“My lord, your words while in this room, while at the Red Orchid, are in confidence, and I do not judge you for them.” Jinyoung stated simply, reminding the other man of something he already knew. It made things easier for Jinyoung that it was strictly not public knowledge who his customers were, and Jinyoung had definitely not felt it prudent to reveal to either Mr. Yang or Mr. Ok that he was learning of things that concerned the rivaling families. Remaining ignorant, they were also more likely to keep telling him all sorts of information, as they were unaware that there would be even the possibility of the companion revealing some to the other. Not that Jinyoung would, the Red Orchid did not take in part in power plays and neither did Jinyoung, he was just curious and interested in following the affairs of the Kingdom, as much as he could from the confines of his life as a companion.

“Still, I should aim to control my tongue always, even when confiding in you. I shouldn’t let personal grudges show in my language.” Taecyeon’s smile was still soft, but he led the conversation back on safer tracks, discussing news from different provinces instead of court matters, and Jinyoung didn’t resist the change of topics, sensing that Taecyeon needed it to keep feeling comfortable.

When their time was up, Jinyoung said farewells to Taecyeon easily. For a moment the companion considered escorting the older down the hall and saying farewells by the doorway to the lounge, but it would have been odd for him to change their pattern suddenly, after all these years and without a prompt, and it was unlikely to throw the other companion’s off of Jinyoung’s back regarding Im Jaebum. It would have been a too sudden change, knowing how familiar everyone at the Red Orchid was with each other’s patterns and routines.

It was natural that life consisted of patterns, occurring everywhere, and everything followed them, nature and men. Seasons changed, but always in the same order, bringing the same things, predictably. Predictability meant stability, the ability for everyone to lead an easier life when they knew what to expect.

Im Jaebum was a disturbance in Jinyoung’s patterns, but Jinyoung had accepted it as a sudden late spring frost or a heavy storm in what should be a dry season. In nature, sudden disturbances happened every now and then, and although they threw things off balance for a while, everything returned back to normal with time. Jinyoung was confident the same would happen with his odd new customer too. Either he would mold to accommodate the patterns, or he would disappear, a storm passing sooner or later.

Jinyoung did not concern himself with that. It was not up to him to decide about the seasons, and there was no use to cry about their inevitable cycle. Although he might hope for one outcome, there was a limited amount of things he could do.

Taecyeon was as steady as the tide, his visits frequent enough and attention constant, but not demanding more of Jinyoung than the companion was ready to provide. Jinyoung wasn’t sure he would like Im Jaebum to become like Ok Taecyeon in terms of the type of customer he was.

Maybe he liked that Im Jaebum was special, a disruption in the pattern of his fabric. Maybe that made the whole all the more beautiful.

In any case, Jinyoung was not surprised when Im Jaebum immediately took note of the new book he was reading when the plainly dressed man came in for their next appointment, and it was far from subtle when the following week, the man had coincidentally acquired the same book and was reading it too. The companion was considerate enough to not point the man’s actions out, and maybe, just maybe, Jinyoung found the actions of this tanned man in plain robes adorable, in their own way. Im Jaebum acted tough, but he always listened attentively to Jinyoung with warmth or mirth dancing in his eyes, and he kept coming back, week after week, although they did nothing more than sit in one of the common tea rooms, drink tea and discuss books and traveling, both Jinyoung’s dreams of it and Im Jaebum’s experience.

Jinyoung found himself wishing there would be an excuse for him to reach out and maybe brush their fingers together, but the most they got was one time when they were walking out of the tea rooms and they ran into Bambam and Yugyeom in the corridor, the Thai companion not paying attention to where he was going and Jinyoung’s customer having to take a side-step to avoid colliding with the excited pair. There had been a rub of dark, rough cotton upon silk as the weight of the taller man’s shoulder leaned onto Jinyoung’s, and the protective touch of fingers over the companion’s waist on the other side, lightly pulling the shorter male towards him.

Jinyoung froze under the touch as it was sudden, unplanned and quite intimate. The strong arm lingered around him for just a moment, and Im Jaebum’s face turned around to face him with a swish of where his hair was tied up in the high ponytail Jinyoung usually saw him wear, apart from that one time at Mr. Yang’s where he had worn it in a bun on top of his head. The smell of sun, clean cotton and earth hit Jinyoung’s senses, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, and it felt almost overwhelming. Their eyes met for one moment, a spark of something going between them, but then Jinyoung was turning his face away with a tinkle of his hairpin’s golden bells, caught off guard.

That, apparently, shook Im Jaebum back into the moment, and he let go of Jinyoung and made an appropriate amount of distance between them again. “Ah, I’m sorry, pretty flower, I didn’t mean to.” Although the taller man’s skin was rather tan, Jinyoung could see his cheeks turning a darker shade when the companion was sure his own composure was intact and he dared to look the other in the eye again.

The dangerous part was that Jinyoung hadn’t minded the touch, on the contrary, but what he answered was that Jaebum needn’t worry about it. They were where anyone could have seen them, and it was only a miracle there was no one in the corridor outside of Bambam and Yugyeom, and the two had been too occupied with one another to even pay attention to Jinyoung and his customer in the first place. Of course, with Jinyoung and Bambam there, the older companion knew exactly who else was watching, and although he could trust Yien to keep what he saw to himself, Jinyoung knew whom he absolutely didn’t trust to not share what he saw. The companion resisted the urge to pinch on the bridge of his nose as he gathered himself, giving Im Jaebum a resolute smile and guiding them to continue down the hall to the lounge. He would have to deal with Jiaer later, as soon as possible, to contain the damage.

Jinyoung fixed the sleeves of his red and orange robe although he knew they were falling perfectly. Their farewell by the doorway was tenser and shorter than usual, the man dressed in dark, plain robes simply wishing him an enjoyable week after they had agreed about their next appointment, not even inquiring about how much longer it would take for Jinyoung to accept him as a regular, like he usually always did. It was obvious that what had happened in the corridor had shaken the both of them.

Once Im Jaebum was out of the entrance, Jinyoung no longer resisted the urge to wrap his own arms around his waist, trying to mimic the firm hold the man had had on him, but unable to. Jinyoung felt like lingering there to mull over what had happened, but he resisted the impulse, knowing that he had his friend’s guard to find and blackmail into silence.

Unfortunately for him, Jiaer had been explicitly trained in being able to avoid being seen when he didn’t want to be, and Jinyoung only found him after he had bribed Yien with the only thing that mattered to the older guard – food. By then Jiaer had already managed to tell Bambam, and by the next morning, everyone knew of Jinyoung’s swoon-worthy moment in the corridor with his mysterious new customer, and they absolutely wouldn’t let Jinyoung hear the end of it. Jiaer even wrote poems about it and loudly recounted them after hours to everyone who would listen. Jinyoung wanted to strangle him, but although he had beaten the same-aged man several times in wrestling when they had been younger, engaging in something like that now was beneath him and thus out of the question.

So instead, he casually asked Yien what would be the most effective way to poison someone without getting caught. Yien gave him a long, exasperated look before telling him that he would tell Jiaer to stop portraying Im Jaebum’s strong arms wrapping around a pretty flower’s lithe waist every time he saw Jinyoung. It got more bearable after that, but the subject was far from being dropped, Jinyoung could tell.

Im Jaebum was back the following week like clockwork, already giving Jinyoung some hope that they had found a routine as they had been seeing each other regularly for a while now, and maybe, if Jinyoung just gave it some more time, the novelty of Im Jaebum would pass. Although Im Jaebum would of course remain special and unique in his own way, like many of Jinyoung’s customers were, in one way or another, maybe with some more time Jinyoung would not feel so out of balance in the company of the man. Believing that it would pass, settle down as Jinyoung would slowly get to unravel more of Im Jaebum’s mystery, Jinyoung did not reign in the urge to enjoy the strangeness of what they had for now.

This all, of course, was just Jinyoung’s private thinking, something he kept tightly locked inside himself, not to be revealed to another soul, especially not after the fuss everyone had made about him and the cotton-robed man.

Jinyoung knew the moment Im Jaebum entered the lounge of Red Orchid – even if Bambam hadn’t kicked his shin, the atmosphere of the room had changed when Im Jaebum walked in, hushed whispers exchanged in the midst of attempted continued conversation that only meant the other companions were straining to see and hear all that happened. Jinyoung could feel all the attention on them even though he did not look up from where he was reading the last chapters of his book. He didn’t want to inflate Im Jaebum’s ego any more by immediately reacting to his appearance, acting nonchalant and none too excited, instead trying to focus on his book even where his eyes did not read the characters any longer. 

A moment later there was a light knock on Jinyoung’s shoulder that made the companion narrow his eyes as he paused before he placed his usual silk ribbon between the pages of his book, a glare ready for when he turned to Im Jaebum to remind the man that he was being more familiar and touchy than Jinyoung had allowed him.

He didn’t get a word out though, because turning to the man, Jinyoung was met with those sparkling cat eyes and a smooth, smug but clearly ecstatic grin, and something in Jinyoung’s chest faltered. It was unfair for man to have this much power over Jinyoung, to get his eyes to want to drink in every detail about the man without the companion consciously deciding that it would be smart to pay attention to details in order to impress. It was so unfair that this man got his heart to stutter in his chest just at the way the man was almost bouncing where he was standing, hands now folded behind his back, so excited to see Jinyoung. Jinyoung  disliked how familiar he was starting to be with the imperfections on Im Jaebum’s face, from the moles to the little scars to the signs of overexposure to the sun. It was… concerning, that he noticed the man so much, without meaning to.

”Let’s go, pretty flower, I’m on time, am I not?” The man asked, showing uncharacteristic nervousness by fiddling with the sleeves of his dark colored cotton robe. Jinyoung closed his lips where they had been parted, closing his book without a word. It seemed like today Im Jaebum was bursting with energy, and Jinyoung could not help but be captivated. It was only with all of the self-control the companion had been taught that he didn’t take a couple running steps to catch up with the man, as the taller in his apparent eagerness took off towards the tea rooms without even letting Jinyoung guide him.

Once they got to their assigned room and had sat down on the opposite sides of the tea table as usual, Jinyoung leveled the man with a chiding look, not even bothering to pour tea first. “Where are you in such a hurry to today that you couldn’t even grant me the courtesy of escorting you?”

The man had the sense to look sheepish, but a wide grin spread soon again on his face, pulling his lips to show his teeth, the quick-witted traveler noticing something in Jinyoung’s words the companion had let slip, had failed to pay attention to in his agitation. “You didn’t refer to me as ‘lord’.”

Jinyoung blinked rapidly, caught off guard, but he quickly gathered himself, making sure to check his posture and smooth his hands over the silk material of his robe for today. He had picked one of his favorites, intricate pictures of carps and lotus flowers embroidered over the various shades of turquoise of the luxurious fabric. “Excuse me for the slip-up, my lord. It won’t happen again.”

“No, no no. I like it.” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes at Im Jaebum, but the cotton robed man’s eyes were sparkling, dark and unreadable on the companion’s face. “Please drop the excess formality. I think you can tell from the clothes I wear that I don’t care for such fancy address form anyway.” He gestured to his robes unnecessarily, his smile lopsided now. Jinyoung could still see traces of the jittery energy in the way the broad man kept fiddling with his own dark purple or brown shaded robes, haltingly reaching one hand for the tea cup before realizing Jinyoung hadn’t even served them yet, and dropping it into his lap again instead.

“…Very well,” Jinyoung finally answered, deciding to drop the subject. He could have pointed out once more that those people who didn’t get themselves addressed as lords usually also didn’t come to the type of money Im Jaebum was spending at the Red Orchid on Jinyoung every week. Jinyoung knew that trail of conversation was a dead end anyway, as the mysterious man always deflected questions about how he could afford the visits to the Red Orchid, and there were more promising avenues of discussion to pursue. “Then, should we not compare ages to know which one of us should call the other hyung?”

“I was born on the year of the rooster,” The man disclosed easily, his smile wide even now. He was enjoying this, obviously.

“Ah… I’m year of the dog, so…” Jinyoung took a moment to tilt his head to the side and opening his eyes wide to maximize the impact of the following words. “ _ Hyung, _ you didn’t answer my original question.”

He didn’t usually get to this stage of informality, at least not this soon, but just seeing the effect on the older man made it worth it. Jaebum’s mouth was hanging open as he stared at Jinyoung, his eyes obviously also taking in the side of neck Jinyoung was so prettily presenting, and Jinyoung did not stop a sly smile from sliding onto his lips. He gave Jaebum a moment, before prompting again. “Hyung?”

“Huh?” That seemed to snap the man out of it, and he shook his head for a moment, long strands of black hair flipping behind him. “Sorry, what was the question again?”

“Why are you so anxious today, hyung?” Jinyoung blinked his eyes at the older man innocently, like he didn’t know exactly why the man had been staring. The companion always loved to be able to completely capture the attention of his customers with tiny gestures, but with Jaebum it was  _ more, _ it was a game he played and he preened at the way the tall, mysterious man seemed to be rendered completely helpless when Jinyoung acted like this.

“Ah, yeah, I guess, sorry.” The older acquiesced, shifting where he was sitting again. Jinyoung’s eyes flickered down to the familiar strip of skin the parting robes revealed of his chest, colored golden in the light of the setting sun pouring into the room. They were meeting much later than usual. “I’m excited because I asked Youngjae-yah, and finally found out what I need to do to become your regular.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jinyoung asked, raising his eyebrows. He reached for the teapot and cups now, acting nonchalantly like he always would in the beginning of their sessions. “And what would that be?”

“I have to give you a gift.”

Jinyoung smiled, not lifting his eyes from where he was pouring the tea, the fingers of his left hand carefully holding his silk sleeve out of the way. He wasn’t going to make this easy for the man. “But I’ve told you, I only accept letters and gifts from my regulars.”

“It’s not just any gift,” Jaebum clarified, repeating words that Jinyoung already knew, but that he had waited for the older to find out for himself. “It’s a… declaration of intent? A proposal of sorts, I think he said. Precious and meaningful.”

The companion hummed as a non-descript answer, finishing pouring the tea and placing the teapot back down onto its plate with a soft clink before raising his eyes to the man in front of him again. “So, what do you have for me,  _ hyung?” _ The word tasted so sweet on Jinyoung’s tongue.

“Well,” Jaebum begun, lifting his left hand to his chest, getting something small that looked to be the shade of jade out of his robes. Jinyoung had noticed the man favored his left hand over his right, a trait not rare, but still unusual, something that stood out to the companion. “Actually, I wanted to get you a bookmark to replace the simple ribbon you use, but for the sake of what this task required, there was only one thing I found fitting.”

Jinyoung felt warm at the thought of Jaebum getting him a bookmark, something Jinyoung would use and see daily, unlike the jewelry he was often gifted, but the thought was quickly interrupted by the older placing his gift, without any wraps, on the wooden table between them.

It was a jade comb, beautifully made with fine teeth and an elaborate carving of a bird Jinyoung didn’t recognize at a glance. It was precious, obviously, jade was a material well renowned, but that wasn’t what was odd about the gift, not at all. Jinyoung was used to receiving jade bracelets or hairpins as declaration of intent gifts, or embroidered purses if the customer was a female, but a comb as a gift had a meaning that ran far deeper than what this situation called for.

“You want to be together with me until my hair turns white?” Jinyoung asked as he raised his eyes from the gift to Jaebum’s face, not reaching to accept the gift just yet as he seeked to clarify its meaning. Jaebum, on the other hand, was obviously growing increasingly nervous, biting on the side of his lip and visibly wringing his hands together in his lap.

Jaebum released his lip from between his teeth. “Ah, you knew the Chinese saying… I didn’t, I mean, I don’t mean to impose that meaning on you at this stage, it’s just, the gift was supposed to be precious and meaningful, and this one…” There was a pause as the older seemed to be looking for the most suitable words, and Jinyoung allowed him this, keeping his eyes on the man and inspecting his expressions carefully, trying to dissect each layer and hue. “This comb was my mother’s.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened, and his eyes dropped to the comb yet again. It looked unassuming, but it was obvious that any woman who owned a jade comb must have either come from a noble family, or have married well above her status.  Perhaps an explanation for Jaebum’s modest appearance but abundant wealth would be that he would be the byproduct of an affair or marriage between two people from completely different social classes? It was certainly a possibility, but one that Jinyoung didn’t have the time to properly consider now. The way Jaebum has worded his last sentence made it clear just how important the comb was to him – it must be a keepsake of his mother’s.

“I can’t accept it.”

Jaebum’s eyes and voice betrayed his shock and disappointment. “Why not?”

“You’re giving me something far too important to you, hyung. This is almost like a… sacrifice, and that’s not what this is about.” Jinyoung was careful to keep his face under control, the tone of his voice even as he delivered the words, “We’re not courting.”

It was a good reminder. Perhaps more necessary than Jinyoung would like to admit.

The expression that crawled onto the older man’s face was nothing if not petulant, his jaw clenched in determination and eyebrows slightly furrowed. “It’s mine to give, and I would give it to you. Don’t do me the dishonor of rejecting my gift like it were an impulsive decision – I have thought this through, Jinyoung-ah.” It was the first time Jaebum had called him directly by his name, and Jinyoung tried not to let his focus be drawn by how the syllables sounded like in the older man’s smooth voice, pitched low and determined. “Please accept it.”

The companion pursed his lips into a tight line. It seemed like they were at an impasse, and as things stood, if Jinyoung kept holding his ground, they would get nowhere. It was Jinyoung’s job as a companion to take care of situations like these, so that they would not grow to be difficult and awkward. He had to be the one to give in.

“Alright,” Jinyoung found himself acquiescing for the second time today to Jaebum’s will. He wanted to argue, but with the role he had to play, his hands were tied. He would just have to find a suitable occasion to return it, because he wouldn’t want to part Jaebum’s way with something as precious as his mother’s comb forever.

In the whim of the moment, or maybe because Jinyoung disliked feeling out of control and like he had to bend to the will of another instead of wrapping them around his little finger, Jinyoung proposed something that was… out of the ordinary, to say the least.

“Would you like to comb my hair, hyung?”

Jinyoung directed a gaze towards Jaebum from under his eyelashes, and he could see the way the man’s both eyebrows rose, caught off guard by the companion’s bold suggestion. The older cleared his throat and lifted a hand to adjust the cotton collar of his robe nervously, like it were too hot in the room. “Are you sure, pretty flower? Isn’t that too…”

There was hesitation in his words and tone, sentence left hanging in the air, and just like that, Jinyoung was the one in control again. It was quickly spinning out of his control though, with how far out he was going from what he usually did, far beyond how he acted with his other customers, and yet… It was fitting of him, of them, of how Jaebum made him feel.

“If you want me to accept such a burdensome gift, the least you can do is to do what I ask, isn’t it, hyung?” Jinyoung quipped, letting a sly smile spread on his own lips now. There was a nervous flutter in his chest that he wouldn’t admit to when he saw the line of Jaebum’s jaw clench again, tan fingers reaching to take the precious jade beauty tool from the desk. Jaebum’s dark purple cotton robes rustled as he moved over to Jinyoung’s side of the table, but once he settled somewhere behind Jinyoung, there was a pause and silence, only the sound of their breaths and the distant sound of conversation from other tea rooms to be heard.

Jinyoung was about to turn to Jaebum, maybe hurry him along, when he felt a tug in his hair as his golden hairpin was slowly pulled out, the bells jingling in hands unused to handling them without making sound. The companion was unable to suppress the shiver when his hair opened from the bun he had woven it into, cascading down the silk covering his back, and he could hear the slow intake of air that Jaebum took. Jinyoung was aware that it was an intimate sight, showing his hair like this. Only children wore their hair openly untied, the sight of an adults hair flowing free reserved between lovers.

Jaebum had to lean quite close to him to be able to set Jinyoung’s heavy hairpin down on the wooden table, and Jinyoung caught another whiff of sun and earth, something the man who seemed to be in touch with a lot of the both smelled like. Jinyoung held his breath not to be overwhelmed, but allowed his eyes to travel over Jaebum’s profile from the side of his eye as the man laid the hairpin carefully on the wooden surface with a soft sound. The opportunity lasted just for a moment, the last rays of the setting sun illuminating the sharp line of Jaebum’s nose and the jut of his jaw, before the older man sat up out of Jinyoung’s field of vision again.

Jinyoung shivered again when a hand came close to his neck to pick up a section of his long, black hair, drawing fingers gently, almost reverently through the long raven black strands Jinyoung spent a lot of time and effort taking care of with gentle soaps and fragrant oils. After the first brush of a touch the hand settled to just hold the section of hair, and Jinyoung could feel the comb being brought down instead, slowly combing through the long locks. Jaebum worked at a sedate pace, taking his time to comb through each section of hair and gently open each tiny tangle he found with his fingers. He was only working on the ends of Jinyoung’s hair, but it hardly mattered, as the purpose of this moment was hardly the act of grooming. This was something else, something far more intimate, powerful and yet fragile spun between them in the light touches of Jaebum’s rough fingers and the shivers Jinyoung got from being taken care of like this. 

Sometimes, Jaebum’s fingertips lingered on the fine material covering Jinyoung’s back, seemingly distracted by the task he was focusing on. Jinyoung felt like he was under a spell of his own making, for he was the one that started this – and yet he was so encaptured by the moment, by the attention and care Jaebum was bestowing on him with each light stroke of fingers or jade comb through the silk of Jinyoung’s hair. It was much more than Jinyoung had thought to expect when he had made the demand of a suggestion, but he found that he was enjoying this, far more than what was wise, probably. Jinyoung had wanted an excuse to brush their fingers together in a calculated manner, but this was so much more, this was Jaebum’s eyes raving over his back and neck, fingers in his hair and body so close that the companion could almost feel the heat radiating off of it.

No words were said, something thick and unspoken stretching between them. It was not uncomfortable like it might have been, in fact, it felt natural to be silent in Jaebum’s company, which Jinyoung appreciated. He just felt on the edge at the soft touches on his hair and back, the slight, tingly pulls on his hair whenever the teeth of the comb would get stuck on a knot of hair.

There was a tangle at the base of Jinyoung’s neck that the teeth of the jade comb had found, and Jaebum had to move the most of Jinyoung’s hair over his shoulder to get at it. This, of course, revealed again the line of Jinyoung’s pale neck, and Jaebum’s fingertips brushed lightly over the back of it as he gathered the last of the other hair out of the way. It was officially the most intimate touch that Jinyoung had ever allowed during his career as a companion.

And he liked it. Something heavy coiled and insistent coiled in his stomach, making him want to push the situation onwards, to see what would happens and what it would feel like if Jaebum went further. Jaebum’s breath was ghosting over his neck now and Jinyoung could feel the older man’s fingers trembling, working on opening the insolent tangle of hair, and Jinyoung couldn’t resist any longer.

He craned his neck to be able to look at Jaebum again from the side of his eye. The older man paused his movements but didn’t lean away. Their faces were quite close, Jaebum’s wet breath hitting Jinyoung’s cheek now, and Jinyoung itched to do  _ something,  _ but he wasn’t sure what, and the slightest bit scared of what it meant.

“Did I… hurt you, pretty flower?” Jaebum’s voice was rough and pitched low, a pleasant rumble, and his concern was touching, but despite Jinyoung purposefully acting delicate and graceful, he was far from being fragile.

“No,” Jinyoung answered simply. Jaebum’s fingers were still in his hair, resting at the nape of his neck lightly, like he was afraid of scaring Jinyoung away. Jinyoung liked to keep people on their toes, keep them guessing, but not to mean that the companion didn’t know what he wanted. Jinyoung liked to play with people, it was a part of both his job description and his personality, but he knew what he wanted.

And right now he wanted to kiss Jaebum.

He could see the older man’s cat eyes drop down to his lips before looking him in the eye again. Jinyoung had learned to read the signs far too young. His attraction was returned by Jaebum in kind.

It would be so easy to turn his body and lean in to kiss the older man with the hooded but sharp eyes and lips thinner than Jinyoung’s. His own eyes followed the way Jaebum’s tongue flicked out to nervous smooth over his bottom lip. The temptation was there, Jinyoung wanted it and he was sure that Jaebum would welcome it, although it seemed that the older was wise enough to know not to initiate it unless Jinyoung did, or explicitly asked for it, which was good.

Jinyoung could sense Yien’s presence before he could see or hear him, which in normal circumstances would be a miracle, but Jinyoung had become attuned to Yien with the way the Chinese man was always in his shadows, watching over him. Annoyance flickered on his face as he straightened his posture and snapped his face to the front.

“I did not call for you, Yien-ge. Leave.” His tone was cold, much colder than usual when he talked to the guard, but  _ usually _ Yien knew better than to interrupt him with his guests if Jinyoung did not signal for him.

Jaebum, of course, immediately scrambled to attention as he was alerted to the foreign presence in the room, standing up next to Jinyoung. The companion could see the man grabbing at his waist for a weapon, but of course, all customer swords were left at the door, so there was nothing for him to arm himself with. Jinyoung did not know of Jaebum’s skill with a sword, but without one and especially at Yien’s home turf, he would be helpless against the guard.

The shadows paused at Jinyoung’s words, and Jinyoung could just barely make out the Chinese guard’s lithe frame, all clad in black like usual. Jinyoung hadn’t noticed when the sun had set as the two occupants of the room had been focused on the task of combing the companion’s hair, but now the room was dark, with only one candle lit in the lamp in the corner, prepared for the darkness that was setting in. If Jinyoung hadn’t stopped the man, if he hadn’t noticed him, the companion was quite sure Yien would have gotten his sword bared at Jaebum’s neck in a blink before the customer noticing, no matter how good a sword fighter he might be.

“My mistake. Please excuse me, my lord, Jinyoung-ah, for my transgression.” Yien spoke in soft, accented Korean, bowing swiftly before jumping and climbing back into the hidden latch in the roof he had dropped down from.

The mood was obviously shattered.

Jaebum was of course confused and shaken by the sudden appearance of the man that obviously looked a lot like an assassin might, and Jinyoung had to ask him to sit down several times before the older calmed down enough to settle down again so that Jinyoung could fetch the lamp and light some more to bring some more light into the room. Jinyoung explained about the guards and that Yien was the one assigned to protect him, not dialing back the seething in his voice when he explained that Yien was not  _ supposed to _ act unless Jinyoung signaled that he was uncomfortable or in danger in the situation, but obviously the guard had taken to himself to make that decision. 

Jinyoung could understand why Yien had gotten concerned enough to interrupt – Jinyoung usually never let customers be as intimate with him as he had allowed Jaebum to be, and it was dark in the room, Yien probably thought the plainly dressed man was forcing himself on the companion, when that wouldn’t be further from the truth. Understanding why Yien had made the call, however, made Jinyoung none less annoyed that their moment had been interrupted.

In the end, it was probably for the best. Now Jinyoung had the time to consider how far it was wise to take with Jaebum, how far Jinyoung wanted to take this and what that meant.

Jaebum seemed impressed when Jinyoung explained the security measures they took. He didn’t go into too much detail, as he obviously wasn’t allowed to reveal the exact signals that he could give and what they meant, but nevertheless, Jinyoung told Jaebum about how there were certain phrases he could use to indicate he was uncomfortable and Yien needed to pay attention and maybe step in, or certain words to immediately alert the guard, or hand signals to tell the guard to stand down or back off. Jinyoung was glad it didn’t seem like a big deal for Jaebum that they were basically being spied on the entire time, as the man seemed to understand that it was for the security of the companions that they were given security measures such as these. There was a reason why Jinyoung and the other companions avoided mentioning the presence of guards if it was possible, as some customers would get upset at not being in complete privacy. Jinyoung had never minded Yien’s presence before, as the older Chinese guard has been by his side all his years and proven himself more than trustworthy and able to keep secrets.

They didn’t return back to brushing Jinyoung’s hair, and Jinyoung only belatedly noticed he still hadn’t fixed it up again, although the feeling of his hair brushing down his silk-covered back with every move should have felt more unnatural. He only drew his hair into a simple bun when it was time for Jaebum to leave, and the older man looked hesitant, biting his lips, seeming almost afraid to let words escape.

Jinyoung was inserting the hairpin into the quick hairstyle he had made when Jaebum finally blurted, “You have beautiful hair.”

It was a simple thing, said in a way that sounded almost innocent, child-like, and Jinyoung could not help the smile that spread on his face. Playfully, he flicked the bells on his hairpin so that they jingled before he let his arms drop down again, realizing too late that his wrists had probably shown as he had lifted his hands to fasten his hair. “I know, thank you, hyung.” Jinyoung meant it.

He had become so much less careful in Jaebum’s company. It was dangerous.

Jinyoung had already opened the sliding door out of the tea room to let Jaebum outside, when the other man halted in front of him, fumbling something out of his robes. The jade comb. It seemed like he had in his hurry to defend them from Yien deposited it inside of his robes, and Jinyoung had almost forgotten about it, but now Jaebum was handing it to him again with two hands.

“You’ll accept it, won’t you, pretty flower?” Jaebum asked, his tone light, but there was a strain to his voice, like it was crucial for him to get an affirmative from Jinyoung.

Jinyoung let out a short, huffy breath. He had already given his answer and he was not about to go back on his words. He reached for the comb with two hands, brushing intentionally his index fingers on Jaebum’s and lingering there for a moment, for once being also the one to revel in the simple touch instead of just using it to rile another person up.

“I’ll treasure it,” Jinyoung said simply with a smile, accepting the comb from Jaebum and tugging it carefully into the many folds of his silken robes. Jaebum’s eye smile was as beautiful as the one on his lips, the man looking like Jinyoung had made his week by accepting this favor.

“Am I your regular now?” Jaebum asked excitedly, and a grin tugged at the edge of Jinyoung’s smile before the companion schooled his expression into a more blank one. He pursed his lips and hummed, pretending to mull it over, leaving Jaebum by the doorway as the companion simply stepped around him and left, leaving the customer his task of closing the door behind them.

“Ah, hey, wait!” Jaebum exclaimed behind him, getting caught out of his stupor and closing the wooden door with an inelegant thump as he followed Jinyoung down the hall with hurried steps.

Halting just before the main hall, Jinyoung suddenly stopped and turned around where he stood, not caring about the soft tinkle of bells that accompanied the quick movement. He smiled wide, a flush high on his cheeks as he spoke the words, lined with a bolder meaning but disguised into the conversation as appropriate.

“Yes. I’m making you mine.”

With that, he turned again towards where he was walking, but not before taking in Jaebum’s flustered expression at his risqué words. Jinyoung felt like he was walking on clouds, not even caring that he knew that the few companions that were at this time in the lounge could tell that his hair had changed. It was lucky that they had had their session at this time – none of the companions present were Jinyoung’s close friends, and they would be unable to get anything out of Jinyoung more than they could see with their eyes, busy with customers lounging around.

Jinyoung went straight to the curtains separating the companion lounge from the entrance rooms, lifting them aside with grace as he walked through them for the first time in a long time. He could hear Jaebum’s steps behind him, trailing after him like a confused puppy.

It was Mrs. Kim who was working Red Orchid’s books and greeting the customers at this time, and Jinyoung found it oddly fitting, although dealing with someone else at the door would have been easier, perhaps. The old but still graceful and sharp woman looked up from the books, her black hair with the occasional grey stroke tied low on the nape of her neck, nodding to Jinyoung before giving a moderate bow to the customer behind him.

Jinyoung bowed to her, easily giving the woman who had raised him like her own son his hand when she reached out to him. Mrs. Kim had a way of making Jinyoung feel like they were the only persons in the room, even though there were four guards visibly stationed by the entrance and the entryway to the companion lounge and Jaebum was standing right behind Jinyoung. Mrs. Kim smoothed her thumb over the back of his hand, giving him a gentle smile before asking him more businesslike what it was that he came to the entrance for.

“Please add Im Jaebum-ssi to the list of my regulars, omoni.”

All the companions and most of the guards and servants referred to Mrs. Kim as mother, but it was only Jinyoung who was allowed this address form. He could basically hear Jaebum’s surprise, and knew he was making assumptions that were wrong, and then again not.

Mrs. Kim’s eyes were piercing as they took in him and Jaebum, but after a short moment she gave a small nod and a knowing smile that smoothened out most the wrinkles in her face and brought out the dimples next to her mouth.

“I see. Anything else?” She pulled back the hand holding Jinyoung’s to take a long calligraphy pen and dip it in ink before turning the pages of the guest book to scrawl something on what was more than likely Jinyoung’s page, out of sight for anyone not in her spot.

Jinyoung turned to Jaebum again, taking in the slight nervous sheen of sweat on the man’s brow and the confused expression he did his best to keep blank. Jinyoung flashed him a sweet smile. The more questions Jaebum had about Jinyoung, the more mystery surrounded him, the more times the man would have to come back to the Red Orchid to get answers. It was a basic lesson each companion learned about how to keep a customer hooked, one that Jinyoung never forgot. Once everything was laid bare and out in the open, once there was nothing new to explore, people got bored and moved on to the next interesting thing. Jinyoung was very aware of that.

“Perhaps my new regular would like to reserve time from my schedule?”

Although Jaebum had expressed several times he wished to become Jinyoung’s regular, he had no ambition in his request, only asking the usual session with Jinyoung next week. He kept glancing over to Mrs. Kim, a certain nervous air about him around her, which Jinyoung found rather adorable.

With the first official appointment set, both the companion and the carekeeper did a full standing bow for the new regular at the Red Orchid, welcoming him as part of its regular customer base, something that seemed to make Jaebum only more flustered. As he said his quick, shy farewells and walked out of the door, Jinyoung knew his adoptive mother’s eyes were on him. It was almost annoying that she didn’t say anything, only ushered him to go back to where customers that might walk in any moment would not see him without paying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are done with chapter 3 :)
> 
> I’ve been looking forward to writing this hair brushing scene for soooo long. It was one of the first scenes I had in my head when imagining this AU, and I wanted it to be the Most Erotic Hair Brushing Scene Ever. Did I succeed?
> 
> The next chapter might take a little longer as I want to work on Playhouse next, and the following chapter in PH is going to be long af. Please wait for me patiently!


	4. Fourth Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I've survived the hell that was finishing my studies this spring and I'm back to more-or-less regular writing again :) I hope you're all doing well.
> 
> Things you need to know for this chapter:  
> Omonim = as opposed to "omoni", "omonim" is used when referring politely to a friend's mother  
> Yunnan = a province located in the far south-west of modern China, then part of the Qing Dynasty
> 
> THE LONG-AWAITED (idk if anyone else was awaiting this, but I was) APPEARANCE OF CHOI YOUNGJAE!!

Jinyoung had been right about there not being anyone in the lounge that would dare to approach him with how many customers were present and how determined the most respected companion looked to leave for his chambers. Moreover, he was pleased not to be bothered for the whole evening. Of course he knew that the news of Im Jaebum becoming Jinyoung’s regular would spread amongst the companions, guards and servants of the Red Orchid like wildfire, so he knew his peace would not be forever. In fact, he had noted the very moment he had stepped back into the companion lounge that night that there had been not one but two companions tactically stationing themselves next to the curtains to the entrance to eavesdrop, so he knew it would take no time at all. What Jinyoung hadn’t accounted for, however, was that the fact that the mysterious Im Jaebum had finally become Jinyoung’s regular made the whole affair that much less interesting for most of the companions at the Red Orchid.

And by “most”, Jinyoung meant “pretty much everyone except Bambam”.

He received congratulations for his new regular from many of Red Orchid’s inhabitants either that day and the day after. Jinyoung was secretly pleased that even Wonpil, who was amongst his oldest and closest friends, seemed appeased by this development and did not pry like he had before about Im Jaebum. Apparently the man being tied down as Jinyoung’s regular customer made their unusual start less of an oddity, and more of a new technique the crown jewel of the Red Orchid had used to tie down a customer was unlike the most. That wasn’t quite the truth, but Jinyoung was just glad to have the brunt of the other companion’s interest and teasing off of his back.

Bambam, however, was not that easily convinced. Jinyoung had always thought the boy to be especially good at reading other's emotions and working them to his advantage, but he hadn’t expected to suffer from it himself. The younger was the one to point out that Jinyoung had been reluctant to accept Jaebum from the start, but had appeared to be pulled in by the strange man. Furthermore, Bambam would not let go of Jiaer’s description of how easily Jinyoung had melted into Jaebum’s side instead of bringing a hand up to keep their distance.

Thankfully, Bambam was easily distracted. Any time the Thai companion would try to initiate a conversation about Im Jaebum, Jinyoung would divert the topic towards Yugyeom. He would bring up the way the young lord had started wearing more and more of the more light shaded clothes that Bambam had once mentioned he preferred on him, or how Yugyeom didn’t put half that effort into his appearance outside the Red Orchid. It was Bambam’s weak spot, but Jinyoung was not afraid of abusing it, and it worked without fail. Bambam was toying with Yugyeom, for sure, but the extent to which the younger was affected by the tall and handsome young lord was adorable.

Jinyoung even found out Bambam was having less encounters of the sexual kind with his other customers, and Jinyoung knew what that meant. That, however, was a conversation for another time.

The week leading up to when Jaebum was supposed to come in for his first visit as Jinyoung’s regular seemed to fly on wings. Jinyoung found himself carrying the jade comb with him far more than necessary, and that was on top of using it daily to comb his hair. He found its light weight in the folds of his robes against his chest comforting. He hadn’t shown the comb to anyone – of course the other companions asked, but “jade” had been an answer sufficient enough answer to satisfy their curiosity about how Im Jaebum had bought his place on Jinyoung’s list of regulars. It told the gift’s value, and they simply  _ assumed _ it would be a bracelet, hairpin or rings of some kind. Jinyoung was not about to correct them.

His week was – other than the congratulations he received and Bambam’s constant suspicion – nothing out of the ordinary, until it came to the visit of one of his favorite regulars.

All of Jinyoung’s customers had different stories, different reasons for returning to the Red Orchid over and over again, paying obnoxious amounts of money to spend some hours in Jinyoung’s company week after week. Most of them were something along the lines of finding Jinyoung attractive, intelligent and pleasant company, perhaps waiting to see if  _ they _ could be the one to change Jinyoung’s mind about selling his body, or just enjoying the feeling of being infatuated while knowing that the object of their desire was unattainable. However, due to the type of companion that Jinyoung was, his physical looks were far from being the only reason for several of his customers to keep returning. Perhaps the saddest of the stories Jinyoung’s customers had, was Choi Youngjae’s.

Choi Youngjae was the second son of the minister of defence and a childhood friend of Kim Yugyeom’s. It had been Yugyeom who had brought him to the Red Orchid, arranged everything with long negotiations with Mrs. Kim, and finally Jinyoung had been brought in to discuss taking Choi Youngjae on as a customer. The way these things were usually done, much unlike what had happened with Im Jaebum.

Choi Youngjae was a singular customer for many reasons. He was young, not the youngest to visit the Red Orchid of course, not with Yugyeom roaming the halls, but he was the youngest customer Jinyoung had. This was perhaps because the younger ones were usually more interested in the services the crown jewel of the Red Orchid would not provide. The sad thing was, the reason Youngjae visited the Red Orchid was that it was reasonable for his father and brother to believe him to be spending his money and time for bedding attractive persons who would not be raising a claim to marry him. What Youngjae was actually doing, however, was receiving lessons in singing and playing instruments, mainly the gayageum.

It was a clever arrangement, in its own way. Youngjae’s father was a very strict and conservative man, and he had absolutely forbidden his second son to study the arts he had shown such passion and talent for. It had been Yugyeom’s idea to have Youngjae take lessons at the Red Orchid under the excuse of the companion house being known to sell the company of beautiful men and women for the pleasure of those wealthy enough. In Jinyoung’s opinion it was tragic that the Choi family approved more of the thought of Youngjae paying for high-class escorts to sleep with him than him getting lessons in music, but it was, once again, just the way things were. High-class noble men, although encouraged to read books and write poetry, weren’t often encouraged to do well in arts like painting or music. At least at the Red Orchid, Youngjae could pursue his underappreciated talent.

Occasionally the young lord would see Wonpil for advanced lessons in the gayageum or Daehyun for his singing technique, but Youngjae had since the start preferred Jinyoung, coming to the lessons with the brightest of smiles and bucketloads of enthusiasm after the first months of shyness. Jinyoung always looked forward to his lessons with Youngjae. He could see that Youngjae shouldered a lot of expectations and responsibilities about things he didn’t care much about, and Jinyoung could see it often in the young man, how exhausted, how burdened he was. 

Still, music never failed to bring a smile on Youngjae’s face, a light in his eyes, even on days when practice wasn’t going that well, his voice cracking at places or not hitting the high notes just right. Youngjae worked hard to do his best while singing and playing and it was beautiful to watch. The young lord’s passion was clear. It was why even on days when Jinyoung could tell something was off with Youngjae, that he was having a hard time in his life outside of the Red Orchid, the companion would not breach the subject immediately. Instead, he allowed the music to do the work of getting the tension in Youngjae’s shoulder to dissolve and bring him to a better mood. Most of the time that was enough, and by the end of the lesson, Youngjae would sometimes share what had been bothering him, if he felt like it. It was only on the worse days, when the younger man’s frustration would start to spill into the music, that Jinyoung would have to stop them in the middle and find out what was bothering the young lord if there was to be any hope that the session with the companion would leave Youngjae feeling better.

Today was one of the worse days, Youngjae’s eyebrows knit together as he kept starting the song over, finding mistakes everywhere, mostly ones that were inaudible to Jinyoung’s ears and thus simply the younger man being overly critical of himself. Jinyoung tried leading them into a different song, an easier one he knew Youngjae enjoyed, but the lord didn’t listen to him, swiping a long stray hair away from his forehead before trying to throw himself into the same difficult song again, fingers getting into position on the strings of the gayageum.

Jinyoung stopped him by taking Youngjae’s hands into his, interrupting the younger before he could get started.

“What’s on your mind, Youngjae?” The address form was far more informal than with his other clients, but then again, Youngjae was the only one younger than Jinyoung, and the companion had a soft spot for him.

For a moment it looked like Youngjae might protest, insist that nothing was wrong, tug his hands away from Jinyoung’s and continue making himself more and more frustrated by attempting to play when he was not in the right headspace for it, but then the fight left the young lord’s silk and satin covered shoulders with a sigh.

“Father has been especially hard on me lately,” Youngjae admitted, lowering his eyes. “He insists that I spend more time at the palace and training the sword. He wants me assigned onto the Crown Prince’s guard, since my hyung is too old for the position.”

Jinyoung knew Choi Siwon by reputation. The man would have undoubtedly been perfect for such important guard duty with his stoic face and knack for fighting and honor. It must have been a terrible disappointment for Youngjae’s father to have his eldest son be rejected from the Crown Prince’s guard, as his first born had of course been the child the man had been grooming for glory. He was likely compensating now, trying to push Youngjae to do things the young man had never had the passion or the interest for, trying to make him into something he wasn’t.

Youngjae’s father’s high expectations were sewed into the dark blue fabric of his robes with gold and silver yarn as patterns of monkeys climbing high.

“It was a miracle my father allowed me to even come here this week, but he agreed to let me if I could master a sword routine I had been struggling with.” A slow smirk spread on Youngjae’s face, but it was more sad and self-deprecating than anything else. The younger’s  eyes were wet, undeniably affected by how his father would not look past the image of what he wanted Youngjae to be to see the man the boy was becoming. “After he promised that, it only took me half a day.”

At this, Jinyoung laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “So, you’re holding back after all? You could do it if you want to, but you don’t care to do it?”

Youngjae sniffled, tilting his face upwards comically, going along with Jinyoung’s teasing, and maybe trying to hold in the tears at the same time, a clever move. “Don’t want to make it seem like I’d be too good at it.”

Jinyoung reached into his robes to pull out a handkerchief to dab away the tears in the corners of Youngjae’s eyes, but something else dropped out alongside of it, falling onto the strings of his gayageum. The instrument let out a loud, dissonant chord that rang unpleasantly in their ears, causing even Jinyoung’s expression to falter into a cringe. It took him only a second to realize what it was that had fallen out of his robes, but the damage was already done, Youngjae’s hand that Jinyoung had freed while reaching for the handkerchief picking up the precious jade comb.

“What’s this?” Youngjae asked curiously, happily taking the distraction from their previous, difficult topic as he turned the delicate comb in his hands, fingers smoothing over the cravings. Before Jinyoung had time to answer, wondering if he should just claim the comb as his or explain that it was a gift, Youngjae continued with a frown, “How did you come into possession of this?”

The latter question was rather odd in Jinyoung’s mind. Sure, jade was precious, but Jinyoung regularly wore a hair pin made out of pure gold, and Youngjae himself had gifted him a precious, expensive dancing fan, worth more than the rice a family ate in a year when the young man had become his regular. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Jinyoung would own something like a jade comb, although it was perhaps curious that he would carry it with him, but that was not the question Youngjae posed.

Jinyoung went with the truth, knowing that Youngjae was not one of his patrons that might get offended by getting a reminder that Jinyoung’s time and attention was shared with others. “It was a gift from a new regular.”

Youngjae’s brows furrowed even more, and he cast Jinyoung a glance that was borderline  _ accusatory. _ “You have a lady from the royal family as your regular?”

“What?” Jinyoung blurted, bewildered by the sudden and absurd conclusion Youngjae had drawn, enough to show his surprise and get worked up. “No, I don’t, it’s a man for one, and what makes you think that just based on having a jade comb? It’s a common item among nobles, something that can be bought at any better market, nothing warranting a royal status.”

“It’s not the jade or the comb,” Youngjae begun, visibly calmer now, but there was still a confused and determined expression on his face. The younger lifted the comb up closer to their faces, fingers pointing at the carving of the bird decorating the edge of it, “but I’ve been enough at the palace to know what a phoenix looks like, and everyone knows that’s an exclusive symbol of the royal family.”

Jinyoung’s blood ran cold. He had spent more time than he would admit staring at the comb and running his fingers on the surface of it, admiring the delicate carving. He had thought it to be a peacock, perhaps, or some kind of a crane he didn’t recognize, maybe something brought from an exotic country like many of Jaebum’s stories were. He hadn’t for one moment entertained the thought that it could be a phoenix – but Youngjae was right, it was a symbol reserved for the royal family, usually the ladies, not something that would be seen carved on any item that could be bought from the market or a specialized merchant.

“Are you sure?” Jinyoung asked quietly. His voice didn’t crack, but he had years of training composure to thank for that. “I thought it was a peacock, or something,” Jinyoung added for good measure, hoping viciously that Youngjae would hesitate and agree with him, that this would be a non-issue instead of something Jinyoung would seriously need to consider the implications of.

“I’m sure,” Youngjae answered, his voice unwavering, and Jinyoung hated that he knew the boy well enough to know that he wasn’t joking, wouldn’t joke about something as serious as this. “See its tail? It has similarities to a peacock, but a peacock’s is wider and and is typically depicted with diamond shapes, not this zig-zag.”

Jinyoung considered what Youngjae said, his own fingers coming up to smooth over the detailed carved pattern on the bird’s tail. He paid more attention to the details and what they meant, thought back to the many peacock designs he had seen, and he had seen plenty. As the symbol of the nine virtues, peacocks were often depicted on items both noble ladies, consorts and companions favored. And Youngjae was right. Jinyoung wished he weren’t, but he wasn’t delusional enough to deny the truth when he was slapped in the face with it.

Youngjae didn’t try to stop him when the older finally plucked the jade comb from the younger’s hands and deposited back into the elaborate folds of his robe, hidden from prying eyes. He would have to be more careful with it, now that he knew what it was, lest someone else recognize what Youngjae had with just a glance.

When Jinyoung lifted his eyes again to meet Youngjae’s, he had steeled his gaze and expression, jaw locked with determination.

“You must be mistaken. It’s a peacock.” His voice was commanding and left no room for questions. It was  _ rude,  _ for a mere companion to use such a tone with the second son of the minister of defense, someone far above him in status.

Youngjae met his gaze head on, unflinching. He had grown so much, Jinyoung realized, the years bringing him maturity and confidence. He was smart, had always been, but he had been just a little rash and stubborn when he had been younger. Now, however, Jinyoung could see the calculated look in the Youngjae’s eyes, the young lord measuring his stance and his tone, when he finally gave in and nodded.

“If you say so, hyung.”

Jinyoung saying so didn’t make it the truth, but Youngjae must realize as well as Jinyoung did that the knowledge of the companion having received a gift donning a royal symbol was something to be kept secret. Jinyoung could trust Youngjae, he knew that, but he disliked having to entrust a knowledge this dangerous to someone else.

Youngjae allowed him to lead them into several easier songs after that, their session ending with a good note despite there being trouble brewing under the surface, thoughts awakened in both of them that weighed on their minds.

Jinyoung went straight to his room after, contemplating whether it would be better to hide the phoenix comb somewhere in his room, or keep carrying it with him. Keeping it in his room ran the risk that the servants doing the cleaning were likely to notice it, but on the other hand, if he kept it among most of his possessions, they were unlikely to pay much attention to it, and even less likely to recognize the bird as a phoenix. Nevertheless, Jinyoung felt that it would be safer to carry the comb with him. To protect the secret engraved in the jade, he chose a simple embroidered silk pouch to store it in. If he slipped out and the comb would fall out of his robes again, at least whoever he was in the company in of would not be able to see what was hidden under the silk.

Once the immediate problem of preventing anyone else finding out that Jinyoung had a phoenix comb, the next issue was mulling over the how it had happened that he had come to be in possession of it, and with that, the mystery of Jaebum. That the dark, cotton-clad man had owned a jade comb with a phoenix engraving could mean several things.

The first options were cases of Jaebum having spoken the truth, and the comb being something his mother had possessed before. The most straightforward option, although not the most likely one, was that Jaebum’s mother was born a royal, married down into some noble family, and thus she had had the phoenix comb due to her royal status. The other option was that she would have been a noble married into the royal family, or been a consort to the royal family, and thus considered part of it and worthy of possessing the likeliness of phoenix in her things.

Neither of these options fit Jaebum – a free soul, traveling around the world, dressed in plain robes – although they would have explained the money he had. A child, especially a boy born to a royal would either live in the palace or with their noble family, cherished, trained and guarded. Not roaming foreign lands unguarded and alone. But a boy born to a royal would certainly have access to funds like Jaebum did.

It was also possible that the comb was something that would have passed in Jaebum’s family for a long time, but wouldn’t the man then have said that it was a family heirloom, rather than just his mother’s? It could also have come to his mother from a childless royal she had served, or if she was a child outside of marriage, or something similar. There were too many possibilities, and not enough information to be able to weigh them over one another.

It could also be that Jaebum had lied, implying that the comb was from his mother. Anyone who was not actually born to royals or did not work at the palace was likely to mistake the bird for a peacock or something else, like Jinyoung had. It could even be that Jaebum had stolen it, or that it had been sold on the streets by some merchant who did not recognize the engraving. It could mean nothing that it was a phoenix that had been engraved onto the comb, but it could also mean everything. It certainly didn’t bring Jinyoung more answers regarding Jaebum’s background, only more questions.

Questions Jinyoung should not try to get an answer for, and thus ones he should seek to forget. Companions were not supposed to pry into sensitive matters, they were only to provide comfort and company for their customers, and it would be up to them to decide to disclose delicate matters, if they happened to feel like pouring their heart out. Despite the affinity most of the occupants of the Red Orchid had for gossip, all of them knew not to enquire directly into such matters, as nothing turned away customers as easily as nosing into their business or having a loose tongue about it.

However, the issue was weighing heavily on Jinyoung’s mind. He usually found it easy not to care about the matters of his customers as far as to feel bothered if he lacked some piece of information he knew was potentially interesting. It was annoying how he was paying more attention to gossip now, unable to focus on reading as he would listen to the chatter in the lounge whenever seated there. Most of the conversations between customers and companions within the the main hall of the tea house weren’t the juicier ones, as those discussions were held in the privacy. However, thankfully or not, Jinyoung had direct access to the core of the gossip due to his friendship with Bambam.

It was easy to get Bambam to talk about rumours and speculations into the current political situation. Jinyoung had to only share some of his own knowledge as hearsay, mention the future bride of the Crown Prince and how Yang Hyunsuk must be upset about it, and Bambam would talk about the influence the Yang family had been gaining and how they had been increasingly spending money in northern provinces, gathering support. The latter was apparently something Nayeon had found out when serving one of Yang Hyunsuk’s nephews, who had been forced to spend increasingly more time traveling to the north to spend money. Oh, how alcohol and soft, alluring bodies loosened tongues to brag and complain.

This knowledge further confirmed Jinyoung’s suspicions about the Yang family preparing for a change in power. However, there was nothing about these rumours that in any way linked to Jaebum, other than the fact that the man had been in Yang’s presence.

Try as he might, Jinyoung couldn’t dig out any rumours that would have given him answers as to why Jaebum had been in the possession of a phoenix-engraved comb. There was nothing that would have pointed more into one direction or another. The current King had two sisters, both still alive, married into high noble families that were supportive of the King’s rule, and the King had never had any concubines. There was a queen, of course, younger than the King was, chosen from an important noble family to assure loyalties and resources at the time. She had born the King only the one son, the older children being all daughters, of course already arranged to marry into noble families to form more of those precious alliances. No one remembered or talked about the generations before, so if that was where Jaebum’s phoenix comb was from, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to find anyone with knowledge about it, and it would bring unwanted attention to why Jinyoung was looking into the subject.

Nevertheless, if the comb was to mark that Jaebum had ties to the royal family, then his ties to Yang Hyunsuk were twice as worrisome. It would mean that instead of being a mercenary, a replaceable pawn in whatever the Yang family was planning, Jaebum would be a much more central playing piece. Jinyoung was not sure if that made the risk on Jaebum's life and wellbeing greater or smaller, but it certainly changed the companion's view of him.

If Jaebum were a simple blade-for-hire on a job, there would be certain deniability on his responsibility on the events that occurred, but if he was aligned with the Yang family in a coup with his noble or royal ties, it would be a different matter. Jaebum would be guilty in the troubles caused to the people, knowingly committing treason as part of the group plotting against those in power. Jinyoung was having a hard time accept that, and it bewildered him. He had never had problems keeping his own views on politics and ethics separate from his customers. He catered to Yang Hyunsuk with no problems except harboring the wish that the man die of alcohol poisoning if the companion kept pouring him more than was necessary. But with Jaebum, the idea of him plotting against the King, which was assumable if he was in dealings with Yang Hyunsuk, didn't sit well with Jinyoung at all.

Jinyoung knew it was his personal attachment and personal interest towards Jaebum that made it so difficult to accept that the traveller might not share Jinyoung’s views on morality and righteousness. The companion didn't care about Yang Hyunsuk, he would not cry if the man would be found guilty of treason, and it would only make Jinyoung despise the man more if he happened to implement a successful coup many others would die in. But Jinyoung cared about Jaebum, and wanted him no harm. The companion had crossed a border with his feelings he shouldn't have, and now he couldn't stop thinking about what Jaebum's intentions in Hanseong were.

As things were, by the time the day of Jaebum's first visit as Jinyoung's regular came, the companion's mind was muddled with worries and thoughts about Jaebum and Yang Hyunsuk that he couldn't quite seem to push aside. They clouded his mood, making him dread the upcoming visit instead of anticipating it.

Jinyoung had a set routine for new regulars. For the first time any new regular had an appointment with him, he did a very specific tea ceremony in his usual room to welcome and thank them. The companion went through the motions of preparation on autopilot, having done this enough times to leave time for his mind to wander, going again and again in circles around the issue weighing on his mind. He got no more answers the more he kept thinking about it, but he found himself unable to stop either, stewing in a hell of his own making.

Waiting for Jaebum to appear as he waited in his room, Jinyoung felt the rare urge to fidget. He checked for the third time in a small hand mirror that his hair was still perfectly done in one of the more formal and elaborate hairdos he fell back to when he wanted to impress or establish his status. His face was paler today to the point it would have looked sickly on a regular person, but it was barely visible from under the makeup he customarily wore. Jinyoung found that his palms were sweating just slightly, enough for him to not want to lay them on the silk robe covering his thighs. On the fabric, intricate patterns of different shades of blue formed stormy waves on an ocean that wrapped around his body. They mirrored the turmoil that was hidden beneath the unreadable, carefully collected exterior.

And yet, when Jaebum finally entered, bowing through the entrance before raising to meet Jinyoung’s eyes, Jinyoung’s heart jumped and he experienced a moment of something like giddiness. Jaebum’s dark eyes were warm when he gazed at the companion and smiled slowly, with closed lips, in a way that should not affect Jinyoung as much as it did. Nevertheless, the effect was undeniable.

It was the eye of the storm, the calm at the core of trouble, the beauty in midst of what could destroy everything.

Jinyoung did his best to not act out of the ordinary. They exchanged greetings and sat down in their respective seats, the customer’s seat providing the best view of the room and into the gardens. The crown jewel of the companion house naturally had access to the best room on the premises, and Mrs. Kim had spared no expense in seeking to make it the most exquisite, beautiful and detailed room in the whole Kingdom of Joseon. Jinyoung had in his clientele members from the richest and the highest-ranking noble families, and he had repeatedly heard how the setting rivaled that of the tea rooms in the palace. He knew the scene had impressive beauty to those appreciative of it, and he was proud to be able to serve his regulars in this locale and impress them with everything being up to the highest standards of the finest companion house of Hanseong. 

“Ah… So this is your usual room?” Jaebum eyes perused the view of the room and Jinyoung nodded, anticipating for the man to continue with high praise. However, Jaebum continued with a simple “it suits you,” before fixing his dark, intense eyes on the companion again in what was the quickest dismissal of Mrs. Kim’s work Jinyoung had ever witnessed.

Sufficient to say, Jinyoung was bewildered by Jaebum’s nonchalant reaction. Due to the unexpected turn of events, Jinyoung struggled to keep his reaction in check, but he managed to give a half-hearted smile and thank you. Struggling to get back the feeling of control over the situation, Jinyoung skipped the first part of the routine with regulars, which was telling the story of the room and expanding on any details the regular would express interest in, and moved forward with the second one.

“Thank you, hyung. Omoni takes pride in the arrangement, so I’m glad it pleases you.” The companion smiled pleasantly, turning to take out the beautifully made tea equipment sitting next to him on a small table.

“Oh.” At this, Jaebum seemed to realize his reaction should have been more grand to be polite. He quickly recovered. “Please express my admiration to your omonim.”

The familiar address form to Mrs. Kim, whom he referred to at his mother, was a sweet sting to Jinyoung’s chest. There was a minute pause to his movements as he faltered, but gathered himself quickly.

“Thank you, I will.” Jinyoung answered, continuing, “As thank you for your patronage, and to celebrate your first appointment as my regular, I'm serving you a very special tea. Please appreciate the ceremony.”

Without further ado, Jinyoung proceeded to set their table for his special tea. The ceremony was a much shorter one than the one performed with tea powder, but the companion went through the motions with no less grace. He set Jaebum a cup, much wider than the ones typically used, and prepared a pot of hot water. When everything was ready, the Jinyoung pulled out a beautifully decorated wooden box, elaborate images of flowers engraved onto its surface, and placed it on the table carefully, positioning it so that Jaebum could perfectly see what he was doing.

Opening the box carefully with his long, slim fingers, Jinyoung presented Jaebum with the insides of the box. A sphere made from tea leaves, bound into the shape with a string, laid on the cushioned insides of the box, unassuming. The companion’s eyes were on Jaebum’s face, so he didn’t miss the confusion and finally, the lift of one eyebrow as the dark-clad man raised his eyes to meet Jinyoung’s.

“What’s this?” Jaebum finally asked, when Jinyoung didn’t move to explain.

Instead of answering immediately, Jinyoung picked up metal tongs he used for this specific occasion. With precise movements, he lifted the bound tea with the tongs and laid it gently at the bottom of Jaebum’s cream colored cup.

“This is a very precious brand of tea we import from the province of Yunnan,” Jinyoung begun his explanation, “It elevates the visuality of tea and provides a unique experience. It’s for the use of the crown jewel of the Red Orchid only, and a great honor to get it served.”

Jaebum had listened to his explanation attentively, his expression smoothed into polite seriousness. “I thank you for the honor,” he answered politely. The ceremony was pushing them into a much more formal space than usual. Jinyoung found the distance a relief, as it was familiar, acting as a companion and their customer, rather than the more casual…  _ thing, _ that he and Jaebum had previously fallen into.

“The honor is mine.” Jinyoung answered as was required of him, but he wouldn’t in all honesty describe getting to serve Jaebum as an honor. There was no specific honor to be gained from serving someone like Jaebum, who had no status or even reputation to speak of. But Jinyoung couldn’t deny that it was a pleasure to serve the man, although he was confusing, odd and out of place at the Red Orchid.

Finally, Jinyoung carefully folded his soft sleeve to take hold of the handle of his pot of water, lifting it gracefully over the cup with the sphere of tea. The companion paused for a moment for dramatic effect and to command Jaebum’s full attention, before starting to pour the hot water on top of the sphere, filling the cup with water.

Not much happened at first, of course. Jinyoung set the pot aside and folded his hands on his lap, watching Jaebum’s expression patiently. The traveller stared at the tea for a while before glancing up to Jinyoung, but when Jinyoung made no move, the older dropped his eyes back into the cup and furrowed his brow. The water had started to gain color from the tea infusing into it and steam was rising from the cup, but not much more had changed. After a moment, Jaebum lifted his gaze again impatiently, parting his lips to pose a question or express confusion, but the companion lifted a silk-sleeved hand to silence him. Jaebum looked silly with his mouth hanging open. Silly, but still handsome, nonetheless. Jinyoung pretended that the last part was just an objective observation.

Jinyoung pointed at the cup again, and Jaebum obediently dropped his gaze.

The leaves had started to open now. Jaebum’s dark, expressive eyebrows rose in surprise. Slowly, a couple at a time, the leaves started to unfurl, revealing layers of color as the flower petals incorporated into the blend came into view and took shape in the hot water. Despite having seen this many times, Jinyoung found it mesmerizing to watch the tea open up like a flower, the pride of the tea artisans showing in the artful arrangement of the leaves and petals. Each bloom was unique, and the companion never knew what the flower would be like before he served it – this one came in beautiful layers of pale yellow and white, perfect for spring. From the scent, Jinyoung recognized the flowers of jasmine and apricot, subtle but distinctive fragrances that added to the atmosphere.

It took awhile for the tea to be in full blossom, but it didn’t seem like the traveller was impatient or unimpressed any longer. He was staring at the cup in awe, taking in the show the flowering tea provided. Jinyoung felt giddy about having successfully gathered Jaebum’s interest after the letdown of his reaction to the decor, but the companion refrained to show his feelings any more than a graceful smile that reached his eyes.

“It’s called blooming tea,” Jinyoung broke the silence with an explanation once all the leaves had opened up. Jaebum’s eyes snapped up to him attentively. The companion found he liked the youthful glimmer that was dancing in them, so rare, but joyful, like a young boy’s. There was innocence in them that was usually far from the weather worn and well-travelled man’s appearance. It didn’t stay long, but it was nonetheless delightful.

“A beautiful flower,” Jaebum said, his eyes fixed on Jinyoung now. It was perfectly obvious he wasn’t talking about the tea, and Jinyoung felt heat at the intensity of the older man’s stare. The mood had shifted in a split second, and once more there was this pull between them, the tension of a string, ready to snap. Jinyoung swallowed.

He let go of his end of the string, lowering his eyes and breaking the moment. “You should try the tea, hyung. It’s ready now.”

Jaebum cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Thank you.”

inyoung saw from where his eyes were lowered Jaebum’s strong fingers wrap around the cup and lift it up to his face to appreciate the smell before taking a careful sip.

“The fragrance is excellent,” Jaebum complimented, and Jinyoung raised his eyes to thank the man with a smile. They sat in silence while the man drunk, honoring the precious beverage. Few had paid the tea equal respect as the modest traveller was. Jinyoung appreciated it, because he thought the serving of this tea symbolic of the relationship that was to bloom and flourish between them.

Afterwards, the companion let Jaebum take over the conversation with an enthusiastic analysis of the book they had finished reading last, but he was distracted. Jinyoung didn't know how not being wowed by the exquisite decor of the tea room fit into Jaebum’s picture. He knew the man with dark clothes and darker eyes wasn’t completely uncultured with how he knew to read and speak several languages and had seen the world, and clearly he knew enough of the nobility to be able to dine with them, at least.

But Jaebum was still much a mystery to Jinyoung, despite the many conversations they had had, the numerous tales Jaebum had shared about his travels and the people he had met. AJinyoung didn’t even know how it was that the man was traveling. Any inquiries into that direction had been written off with a shrug, the traveller claiming he needed to see the world and did odd mercenary jobs wherever he went to afford it. Jinyoung believed that Jaebum wasn’t lying to him, but the companion had his doubts that there was more beneath the surface, things that the mysterious man was tactically omitting.

The thought of the jade phoenix comb nagged insistently at the back of Jinyoung’s head. How had man who dressed in cotton come into the possession of it?

It took a beat too long for Jinyoung to notice that Jaebum had stopped talking, and he belatedly realised that he had been barely paying mind to the conversation, only nodding and humming along as his thoughts had wandered. Many liked to talk about themselves and were pleased if they had a pretty companion to simply sit there, smile and nod along. That, however, was not enough for Jinyoung’s favorite regulars, and it was definitely not enough for Jaebum.

The sun kissed man was looking at him with a confused, perhaps even worried expression, like he was trying to decipher what was going on in Jinyoung’s head. The companion quickly schooled his face, bringing forth a smile. “What did you think of the ending, hyung?” He asked amicably, hoping to encourage the older man to continue the conversation.

It was too little too late, apparently, because Jaebum was not fooled. “What’s on your mind, pretty flower?”

“I feel like I still haven’t fully grasped the meaning of there being two moons in the sky at the end,” The younger lied smoothly, giving an apologetic smile, like he was being silly. It was simple symbolism, really, and usually the men Jinyoung catered liked to show off their intelligence when the companion feigned ignorance. But to Im Jaebum, it seemed like Jinyoung wasn’t quite the enigma he liked to be.

“No, something’s wrong. What is it, pretty flower?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jinyoung scrunched his nose in annoyance before catching himself, schooling his expression back to something that would not create lines in his makeup. Jaebum’s ability to read him irked the companion, and he really didn’t need for the man to push him any further. Jinyoung had lost sleep mulling over what the man’s parentage could be and why he associated with Yang Hyunsuk and in what role, and he was just about at his breaking point regarding the matter, having thought it over and over again far too many times.

He had to get Jaebum off of his back, or he would cave in to the turmoil of his thoughts and overstep far too many lines. “Thank you for your concern, hyung, but I simply have found myself unable to sleep properly lately. Excuse my inability to focus and my irritability at being inadequate at hiding it.” There was no lie in what Jinyoung had said, and that was the best way to conceal things; in truths that failed to reveal the extent of the issue.

And it seemed to work; Jaebum leaned back into his usual posture, his expression showing understanding amidst the confusion. Jinyoung admitting to a fault in describing how he hadn’t liked Jaebum pointing out his drifting mind was a concession that made the distance between them smaller again, more what was a personal relationship instead of a professional one.

Yet, his words weren’t enough. The crease between the older man’s strong eyebrows did not disappear, and his expressive eyes did not stop their scrutiny. Jaebum had relaxed a little at the admission, but he still had his doubts, and Jinyoung wished he would just  _ drop it,  _ but no–

“Are you sure that’s all?” And before Jinyoung could answer, despite the companion having already opened his mouth to do so– “It seems like something is bothering you.”

“It’s really none of my business.” Jinyoung snapped before he could stop himself. He would have slapped a hand over his mouth, had he not been trained to act unaffected all his life. Instead, he tightened the grip he had on his own fingers in his lap to something painful. They were hidden from Jaebum’s sight by the low table between them, so it was an apt punishment.

Because of course, Jaebum latched onto the words he had let slip. “What isn’t?”

Jinyoung tried to repair the damage done in vain, bringing forth a tight smile and a dismissive shake of head, lowering his gaze.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Clearly it’s something, if it’s bothering you this much?”

“It’s not my place to say anything.”

“Not your place?” Jaebum questioned, visibly frustrated also as the argument went on, but still managing to keep his calm. ”Does that mean it has something to do with me?”

“It’s not my place. A companion shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of their customers, or others. Can we move past this subject now?” Jinyoung reiterated. He knew he was losing control of his expression as he was getting worked up. Jaebum was being so  _ frustrating _ about this. This was not what they were supposed to be doing, a companion was never supposed to argue with their customer, but Jinyoung was doing exactly that, now. However, the cotton-clad man hadn’t allowed him to avoid it, either.

“No, I don’t think we can,” Jaebum answered curtly, and Jinyoung felt like grabbing the man’s shoulders and shaking them, but he refrained. Instead, he let go of his own fingers to squeeze at his thighs through the silk, pressing his fingernails just enough to feel it. It was grounding, but not enough, because Jaebum  _ still _ wasn’t letting it be. “If you have a problem with me, you should say it.”

“I don’t have a problem with you!” Jinyoung half-yelled, a disgraceful lapse, but he was seeing red and unable to keep his annoyance away from his face and the tone of his voice. He was almost shaking.

“Then what is it?” Jaebum slammed his hands on the table, making the tea set on it clatter. The companion flinched at the sudden sound, but then only got angrier, glaring at the older man openly.

“You associating with Yang Hyunsuk to arrange a coup!”

The short silence could have been cut with a blade. Jaebum’s expression changed from shock to bewilderment, and Jinyoung grit his teeth, anticipating backlash.

“What!?” Jaebum shouted, as expected, outraged. However, the next words did not go into the direction Jinyoung had assumed. “The old geezer is planning a coup?”

The older had worded it like the information came as a surprise to him. Jinyoung hesitated, trying to gauge whether the traveller was just attempting to act like he hadn’t known, or if he truly hadn’t. Unsure, the companion fell back to trying to contain the damage. He tried to expel the tension from his body the best he could, inhaling deep to regain his calm and pitching his voice back to something polite.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my place.”

“No, you will tell me everything you know,” Jaebum said firmly, like a command. The tone irked Jinyoung, although he got it from customers every now and then. In his usual mental state he would have taken it in a stride, but he was too worked up now, and he narrowed his eyes at the older without thinking. Insubordination raised its head, and as it was, the companion shouldn’t anyway be discussing the matters of politics with a customer, and definitely not the affairs of one of his other regulars, no matter how little regard he held for Yang Hyunsuk.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the matter,” Jinyoung said icily, but added, “however, anyone keeping their eyes open and an ear to the ground would know about the Yang family’s political stance.”

Jaebum narrowed his eyes as well, but he fell quiet, at long last. Jinyoung took the time to rearrange his hands in his lap and breathe deeply, forcing calm into his body.

“I see,” Jaebum said finally, the words slow and the quietest the companion had heard him speak today. “I have to go.”

“We still have time left,” Jinyoung hastily offered as Jaebum moved to stand up with a rustle of his dark brown cotton robes. There was a storm brewing on the older man’s face, and he wasn’t looking at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung moved to stand as well, mirroring Jaebum’s movements as the both of them adjusted their robes, the older with a rough tug of the simple cotton sash at his waist and the younger with soft hands smoothing wrinkles from the fine silk he wore.

“No, I,” A glance towards Jinyoung, and a moment’s hesitation. “I have to go.”

“As you wish, hyung,” Jinyoung yielded politely, but instead of backing off, he walked up to Jaebum, facing him square on. “At least allow me to escort you to the entrance.”

It was not a plea, nor a suggestion. Jinyoung did not leave Jaebum room to refuse without implied insult towards the companion.

“Alright,” Jaebum conceded wisely. The door was opened for them, and the companion gestured for his customer to step out first.

Jinyoung did not react to seeing that it had been Yien to open the sliding door for them. The companion couldn’t remember the last time an appointment had ended early out of the customer’s request, or rather, if it had ever happened before, but it was natural for Yien to fill the role of a servant opening the door for them. After all, there would be no one else available to hear them with the appointment slot not nearly over. In day robes Yien looked like a plain servant, the brown shades of his robes blending in with the wooden structures of the building, head bowed to act the part and not be noticed. Not many would pay enough attention to him to realize that he wasn’t wearing colors like the usual servants at Red Orchid did, or notice that the man was carrying a blade.

It was saying something that Jinyoung wasn’t surprised that Jaebum  _ did _ notice. The customer halted right outside the room, his eyes fixed on Yien, narrowing.

“Are you…” Jaebum begun, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. Understanding that he was being talked to, Yien lifted out of the bow. As the guard straightened, his right hand came to rest on the hilt of his blade. After all, there was no use in hiding the weapon when he had already failed to be unnoticeable.

Jaebum couldn’t have recognized Yien, could he? The time the guard had interrupted them, he had been dressed fully in black, a piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face to make him as invisible as possible, and it had been too dark to see more than his figure anyway. But perhaps the traveller had realized that Yien could not be a regular servant, and his presence near Jinyoung was enough indication as to who he was, if one was smart like Im Jaebum had certainly proved to be.

Yien was being bold, staring at Jaebum head on, like they were equals. Then again, they looked like equals, with both of them wearing cotton, their hair styled for practicality, and no makeup covering their skin. Additionally, Yien had definitely heard their argument, so he would not be feeling very amicable towards Jaebum right now.

To break the awkwards staredown and answer the question the traveller didn’t finish posing, Jinyoung nodded to Yien, and took the Jaebum’s arm to direct him down the hall. “Thank you, Yien-ge. This way, hyung.”

Jaebum took his eyes off of Yien eventually, and when they started to walk towards the companion lounge, Jinyoung could tell Yien had returned back up to the passages hidden in the ceiling that the guards preferred to use. The companion and his customer fell back into silence, this one tense, unlike most of their shared moments of quiet. The argument was hanging heavy in the air between them, and Jinyoung was unsure how to fix the situation. He had never argued like this with a customer before – if he had raised his voice, it was because of a transgression the customer had made, and it would result in them being banned from the Red Orchid for the rest of their life. That was not the case with Jaebum.

Jinyoung stopped them before they went around the corner into the lounge, knowing that this was the final spot that would give them a chance of not being eavesdropped on by those he didn’t trust not to spend gossip. Jaebum turned to face him, his expression only betraying some curiosity as to why they had halted. Jinyoung kept his hand in the crook of Jaebum’s elbow, the feeling of coarse cotton under his fingertips a welcome one. It signaled that the simple touch and Jinyoung’s presence was not something he was adverse to, even after the events of the day.

Regardless, the younger of the two felt that he needed to express his regret over how the appointment had turned out, and take responsibility for the mood souring like it had.

It was difficult to find the right words. Jinyoung still stood by what he had said, and it was a relief of sorts, to finally get it out of his system. On the other hand, Jinyoung felt remorse for acting against what he was taught, for having gotten so involved with Jaebum that he had been unable to hold a proper distance from his matters outside the Red Orchid. But more than anything else, Jinyoung didn’t want to lose the older man over this.

“I’m sorry for overstepping,” The younger finally said, not expanding on it further. Jaebum’s dark brown eyes were boring into Jinyoung, the storm inside them still obvious to the younger, who was used to seeing them warm and mischievous.

“The first visit for a regular is on the house,” Jinyoung continued when Jaebum did nothing more to acknowledge his apology, “And I hope that despite cutting the session short, you’d come again, hyung.”

At this, at least, Jaebum said something. “Of course I will.”

Jinyoung couldn’t help the relieved smile that slid onto his face. He tilted his head downwards to look up at Jaebum through his eyelashes, but instead of a calculated act it was a natural one, stemming from the bashful happiness he felt from how strongly the older had insisted that he would be back.

“Same time next week, then?”

“Sure.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lot of work hahaha I ended up writing half of the next chapter into this chapter, but then I decided to add this JJP scene to make this fic longer and also to have what happens next make more sense for everyone :')
> 
> I love Youngjae, and you should too. Yugbam is showing some development, but JJP is only getting more and more confusing as the plot thickens... 
> 
> Jinyoung has a knack for overthinking things. It is how it is :')
> 
> As I have a lot already written for the next chapter, I'll aim to finish it first before returning back to working on Playhouse. Please let me know what you think of this chapter and/or my work so far, and wait patiently for the next chapter (although this time, the wait will be shorter)!


	5. Fifth Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahah I'm sorry for those who read half of this chapter before, because I did some changes because of the additional JJP scene in the previous chapter annnnddd... Yeah this story is going to become longer than I planned it would, but when does it not when it comes to me and my fics hahaha
> 
> Thank you to [Sunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonewolfsong/pseuds/sunnybunnysuga) for providing me a sanity check for this chapter u_u
> 
> Thank you to everyone that this fic has reached 500 kudos! I'll do my best in the future too!

Returning back to the main hall of the companion lounge, Jinyoung pointedly ignored Wonpil’s bewildered eyes. He knew that his friend had known exactly how long Im Jaebum’s appointment was supposed to last, and he didn’t feel like answering questions that were inevitable, now that it hadn’t. Instead, Jinyoung avoided his friend, going straight up the stairs and past the balcony to go down the corridor to his room. He was not concerned about Wonpil’s reaction right now – he needed to seek out Yien to talk about what had happened earlier.

It was easy for him to get Yien alone – the man was his bodyguard after all, so instead of roaming the servant’s quarters or the wall corridors like he had when he had tried to find Jiaer the other time, Jinyoung only needed to go to his room and call for the man. The guard obediently opened one of the roof tiles to drop down into the room, landing gracefully and quiet, like a cat. Jinyoung had always admired Yien for his easy grace. The man made martial arts look like a dance and he truly had grown to be the best guard the Red Orchid had. It was like fate that he and Yien had ended up as a companion-guard pair. Jinyoung had never had any problems with Yien, or worries about the performance of his duties.

Until now.

“What is it, Jinyoungie?” Yien prompted gently, when the companion moved to sit down and gestured for the guard to sit as well.

When it came to Yien, Jinyoung never beat around the bush. He knew the Chinese man appreciated straightforwardness, and they had been friends for too many years to not respect the man and cut to the chase. “Is it going to be a problem for you, me continuing to see Im Jaebum?”

The question immediately set the mood to a serious one.

“It is not up to the guard whom and how their companion serves,” Yien answered automatically, straight from the rules of Red Orchid.

“That’s right, it isn’t,” Jinyoung confirmed, “But what I’m asking is if you have a problem with Im Jaebum, because acting like you have hinders my ability to serve him as I deem best.”

Yien took a moment to answer, and Jinyoung gave him the time, knowing that the man took care to choose his words well. After all, Yien was doing him a courtesy by speaking Korean – Yien’s Korean was certainly better than Jinyoung’s Mandarin, but he wasn’t fluent.

“He is… Untrue,” Yien finally settled on. “He is like a servant at Red Orchid, who dresses in cotton, but knows arts and culture. However, he doesn’t have the life of a servant like us, his skin has seen sun on many lands. He is here like a lord, and we act like he is, because he has the money of one, but he does not have the name, the family. He is untrue. I don’t trust him.”

“‘Conflicting’,” Jinyoung offered, “He’s conflicting, because he seems like one thing and acts like another.”

“Conflicting,” Yien repeated thoughtfully, “But I like the word ‘untrue’.”

”I guess that fits, too, although it’s a little harsh,” Jinyoung admitted.

Yien shrugged, the cheeky bastard. Jinyoung did not hold back his amused half-smile. They were alone, after all, and with just the two of them, Jinyoung could be just Jinyoung, instead of the crown jewel of the Red Orchid. It was an ease Jinyoung got rarely, as he liked to spend whatever time he could outside of the role of a companion by himself, enjoying the quiet and the freedom to be who he was under the makeup and the fancy clothes and the heavy updos of hair. Yien’s company didn’t break that peacefulness, as they could sit in simple silence and enjoy it without needing to say a word. He was a good friend.

Deciding that there was no need for him to go back to the lounge later today, Jinyoung started to pull out the many pins that held the elaborate and heavy hairdo he had opted for today. On a regular day he either only wore the golden orchid that signified his status, but sometimes for specific guests, occasions, he wore in addition ones that that customer had given him, or sometimes he matched his outfit with one or two additional hairpins that had decorations that matched the colors he wore. However, today he had gone overboard, having tried to impress Jaebum or tried to assert that he really was a companion and nothing else, or something.

On top of the golden orchid, he had worn five other hairpins. Four were various cedar wood pins with opal decorations in shades of blue that matched the many shades on the stormy sea themed robes he donned. They had been a gift from Boa, a long time ago. He had also worn one of his favorites, a heavy jade hairpin in the shape of apricot blossoms on the other side to balance the hairdo out, the gift a well-worn present he had received from Mr. Park Jinyoung when he was but starting out as a companion. It had been the best hairpin he had owned for years, before he became the bearer of the gold orchid. The green shade of the jade went well with the other shades he was wearing, and it was a comfort of sorts, to have his old favorite accompany him throughout the day.

But with how many pins he had put in his hair, they had been pulling and weighing on his scalp all day, giving him a slight headache he had had to hide under the mask of a perfect companion. Now, pulling them out one by one, fingers adeptly turning and tugging them so as to not get their decorations tangled up in his hair, with each gone, Jinyoung felt the relief in his scalp, the headache finally receding.

Yien rose without prompting, helping Jinyoung with the pins and afterwards, taking Jinyoung’s favorite wooden comb to brush through his hair. There was no rules that required the guard to act as a servant for the companion, especially now that there was no guest with them, but this wasn’t Yien acting out of a sense of duty. It was a companionable, friendly action. Both of them knew that the conversation wasn’t over, but there was a certain calm to the action, and Jinyoung closed his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of being taken care of by a person he trusted with his life every day.

He tried not to think about how this was moon to the day when compared to Jaebum combing his hair. There was nothing particularly sensual or thrilling about Yien detangling his hair, just familiarity and comfort.

The silence went on for a while without the need to fill it, until Jinyoung broke it to bring them back to the matter they were discussing.

“I have no intention of ceasing to see Im Jaebum,” Jinyoung stated frankly, “And you will adjust to him being a singular customer, ge. I know he is out of the ordinary and I treat him different than others, but I will do as I see fit, and I need you to support me like you always have.”

Although his words left little room for argument, Jinyoung’s request was sincere. For anyone else, there might have had to been a pretense that Jinyoung wouldn’t do whatever he had set his mind on regardless of the other person’s answer, but with Yien there was no need.

“You always have my support,” Yien answered simply. The backs of his fingers brushed against Jinyoung’s neck when he gathered the companion’s hair into a grip that prevented him from pulling hairs as he moved to brush closer to the roots. There was no shiver, no spark, only the warmth of someone he was close to like a brother pampering him.

Yien continued after a moment, “However, I will keep a close eye on Im Jaebum, because he is untrue. My job is to keep you safe, and I will not fail you.”

“Of course,” Jinyoung relented, knowing when to demand and when to give in. He appreciated Yien’s protectiveness, and if the guard would refrain from barging in when the companion may or may not like to kiss Jaebum, he wouldn’t mind Yien remaining suspicious. After all, a companion was not to interfere in the duties of a guard either.

Yien moved to comb the companion’s long hair from his scalp to the roots, getting out the last kinks before starting to weave Jinyoung’s hair into the style the companion preferred to wear to bed. They spoke no more than the thank you the companion gave the guard when he was finished, and Yien smiled and nodded before leaving. Jinyoung watched Yien climb back into the secret passages above, but the companion knew the guard wouldn’t stay.

With Jinyoung getting ready for bed, Yien was dismissed, and would probably seek out Jiaer instead of taking the time off to rest. Jinyoung wondered if there was something he could do to make the younger Chinese to realise what had been right in front of his face for years, namely Yien’s everlasting love, that the older had condemned as unrequited. Jinyoung had tried to talk to Yien about it several times without success, but perhaps a less subtle approach through Jiaer would be enough to get the guard something else to think about than Jinyoung’s weird relation with the “untrue” Im Jaebum.

Carefully disrobing a layer at the time, taking care to fold and hang each piece of expensive clothing accordingly, Jinyoung kept glancing back to the pouch he had taken out of his robes first thing. He had laid it on the edge of his drawer, the silk pouch not seeming out of place, and yet the companion knew its content was one that did not belong inside these walls.

Yien had not brought the mystery of the comb up. The guard knew who Jinyoung had gotten it from, and of course he had been there when Jinyoung’s carelessness had revealed it to Choi Youngjae, but it might be that the guard had missed the significance. Jinyoung was thankful for small mercies.

  
  
  


When the next time for Jaebum’s visit arrived, Jaebum didn’t. Jinyoung had awaited this appointment the whole week, but was left waiting in the companion lounge, continuously glancing towards the door and asking Bambam for the time. The hour of their meeting passed with no message from Jaebum, and Jinyoung couldn’t recall if he had ever been left hanging like this – his other customers, if something sudden had come up and they couldn’t make it to an agreed appointment, sent a servant to inform Jinyoung about it. Jinyoung didn’t know if Jaebum even had servants. Still, it was more than rude for him not to turn up, or cancel his appointment.

It was natural that Bambam figured out what had happened, and he tried to “comfort” Jinyoung the best he could. Jinyoung knew the foreign companion meant well, but the older would have rather ignored the whole thing with grace than have Bambam come up with a billion of good excuses in Jaebum’s stead. They did not answer the question of why Jaebum hadn’t come, and only made Jinyoung more anxious about it.

Wonpil sided with Bambam about the matter, in a way. The two of them weren’t the usual gossips together, but naturally when Jinyoung had avoided Wonpil’s questions the time Jaebum had left early, the man had known where to press for information. Compared to Bambam, Wonpil was more apprehensive towards the situation, more wary towards Jaebum’s disappearance and curious as to why he had left early that one time, although Jinyoung insisted that it had been little more than the man having other things to do that had forced him to end the session early. It had not been a straight-out lie, but it was far from being the whole truth, and Wonpil could tell as much, Jinyoung knew.

Having found out from Bambam that Jinyoung had been stood up, Wonpil expressed doubts to Jinyoung on whether the companion should keep the oddity of a man as a customer, with how out of place he was at the Red Orchid, and how he was acting towards Jinyoung. Jinyoung knew his friend was worried, but he couldn’t agree with the musician’s opinion, and dismissed his worries with a smile and a reassurance that it wasn’t such a big deal and he knew how to handle himself. The matter wasn’t dropped completely, but Wonpil left him alone about it, at least for the time being.

For another week Jinyoung still deluded himself that maybe Jaebum had remembered wrong, maybe he had thought their meeting had been agreed on another day, but when another week passed and Jaebum did not turn up at the Red Orchid or send a message, Jinyoung knew that was not the case. Which led him to think about the possible reasons for Jaebum to not turn up, on top of the convenient excuses Bambam had given, and what he thought up only ranged from bad to worse.

Maybe Jaebum had gotten a sudden assignment elsewhere, and didn’t have the time or the forethought to send Jinyoung a message.

Maybe Jaebum had gotten tired of him, annoyed at his presumptions about Yang Hyunsuk, and wanted nothing to do with the companion anymore.

Maybe he had gotten sick and couldn’t come.

Maybe something had happened, and he was injured, dead or captured somewhere.

The reasons he came up with became less and less probable the longer Jinyoung was left brooding, although he tried to stop himself. People came and went from his life. No one outside of the Red Orchid was a permanent fixture in his life, even though some stayed for longer than others. It was not the first or the last time one of his regulars left him without so much as a message. It had happened before.

Whatever the case may be, it was not productive for Jinyoung to worry about if Jaebum might have gotten hurt or if he had gotten bored of Jinyoung or angry at him. There was nothing Jinyoung could do about the way things were, and it was definitely not an option or even possible for him to seek Jaebum out. He could only wish that the man was in full health, and that there were reasons keeping him from Jinyoung for now, and that those reasons would still allow for the man to return to him later.

Jinyoung told himself not to have high hopes, but something in his chest had already long ago caved to Jaebum, and he found himself waiting for the man every day, despite telling himself not to. But the world went on like it had before Im Jaebum had appeared in Jinyoung’s life, and Jinyoung wasn’t sure how he should feel about that. Not like he was, probably. He shouldn’t have let himself be this affected.

Yien didn’t comment on his mood, but the guard had taken the habit of helping the companion with his hair each evening. Jinyoung appreciated the silent support.

  
  
  


Jinyoung felt guilty, walking arm in arm with Taecyeon on the wide roads in the better parts of the city, lined with merchants and filled with people in colorful clothes and intricate hairstyles. It was spring festival, and Jinyoung had been hired to accompany the Chief State Councillor’s son for the event. Taecyeon had claimed his wife felt too weak lately to attend, and while Jinyoung didn’t know how true that was, it was not his job nor his place to judge or question his customer’s private life.

However, this time he was not feeling sorry because of Taecyeon’s wife, or at least not much, the years of doing this dance making the worst blunt of that feeling wear off. Rather, Jinyoung felt sorry towards Taecyeon, knowing for how long the man had been harboring a variety of feelings for him, and yet the companion could not even spend a pleasant evening with the tall and handsome man without his thoughts slipping to another. Without meaning to do so, Jinyoung was comparing how he preferred the earthy, sunny scent of Jaebum’s to the subtle and complex perfume Taecyeon liked to wear, or how it didn’t feel special at all when the much older man gently tapped the hand Jinyoung rested on his arm to direct the fair companion’s attention to this or that amongst the festival’s attractions. 

Jinyoung was by no means uncomfortable in the older man’s presence – it had been a warm day, and Jinyoung was glad to enjoy the colors of the sky and flora from outside the walls of the Red Orchid, no matter that he had to wear an additional robe to cover his hair and that there were rather many people at the event. They were given a respectful distance by the people around, the poor knowing to keep away from those dressed in silk and the other nobles greeting them with a nod or a meaningless words before moving onwards. Jinyoung preferred it so. As usual, he was a show of wealth and status, and making an appearance at the spring festival with a companion from the Red Orchid spoke volumes of the Ok family’s prosperity, so it was important for the right people to notice and recognize them. That was never all when it came to Taecyeon of course, knowing his feelings, but it was an important role for Jinyoung to play nevertheless, and he did it well.

Yien and Taecyeon’s guard trailed a couple of steps behind them, hands resting on swords, a display of their importance. All the higher nobles had their guards, but lower nobles carried only their own swords. Ok Taecyeon had both.

The festivities were nice, and needless to say, Taecyeon was as pleasant company as ever, but that was all it was – pleasant, and a nice change from staying within Red Orchid’s walls. Here Jinyoung could observe people he would never see inside the walls and rarely had time to follow with his eyes while making his way to someone’s house, and although he naturally had to keep his attention mostly on Taecyeon, it was nice. It was rare that the companion had someone take him out of the Red Orchid just for a stroll like this, especially considering the additional cost of it.

With his free hand, the companion adjusted the deep, bright orange robe he wore to cover his hair and shield his face from most onlookers and graced Taecyeon with a closed-lipped smile, when the tall and broad lord commented on how the imports had been good this year and how the festivities of the common folk, too, had grown as they had more to celebrate. Taecyeon made him try on a variety of accessories to humour the older, and Jinyoung knew how to show just the right amount of interest to be polite, but not to prompt his customer to buy him something he didn’t need. He did let Taecyeon buy them festival snacks, and he didn’t hide his enjoyment eating the sticky-sweet rice balls handed to them by a sweet old lady in exchange for a couple coins. A further politeness was him not drawing attention to how Taecyeon was openly staring when the companion smiled so wide his eyes wrinkled, enjoying the food.

They had just finished the snacks and come out of the worst bustle of the festival onto the more calmer, wealthier area of Hanseong, when Taecyeon, after another one of his glances during idle conversation halted, and turned to face Jinyoung.

“You have some… on your cheek, here,” Taecyeon gestured with his finger next to his own lips, and Jinyoung cursed himself internally for getting so excited about the food that he had gotten some on himself. His job was to be impeccable in every way, so he knew better than this.

“Ah, I think I have a mirror with me,” the companion begun, reaching for the purse hanging from his hand, but he was stopped by Taecyeon holding a finger wrapped into a silk handkerchief close to Jinyoung’s face, clear with intent.

“May I?” He prompted gently, the perfect gentleman as ever. Jinyoung lowered his eyes for just a moment as he pondered, hand still hovering halfway to his purse, but then he let both of his hands drop to clasp them modestly in front of him. Taecyeon had deserved the intimacy, and there weren’t too many people around them to watch the spectacle, after all.

“Thank you,” Jinyoung answered with a curt smile before setting his lips into a neutral position as Taecyeon leaned in to gently dab away the stain next to where Jinyoung’s dimple appeared, if he let his smile get too wide.

It was a picture perfect scene, really, so Jinyoung let it play out. The trees throwing shadows on the street were starting to bloom. Jinyoung was dressed to his nines, complimenting shades of bright green and orange drawing due attention, acting the role of the perfect companion with eyes lowered, his manner gentle and meek. Taecyeon was playing his part as well, towering slightly over him as the older leaned in, and Jinyoung idly followed the pattern of the fine, dark purple silk robes the older wore with his eyes, the sash tied around Taecyeon’s waist tightly to keep the lapels closed at all times. The older man’s finger was touching Jinyoung’s cheek carefully, not lingering too much, and Taecyeon’s breath softly hit the companion’s face from where the taller had leaned closer to inspect his work. The moment was flawless.

But it lasted two beats too long, Taecyeon leaned a bit too close, and Jinyoung knew the signs. Anyone would have fallen for it, if they held similar feelings, or if they did that sort of a thing for money. Jinyoung didn’t.

So before it could go any further and the lord would embarrass himself, Jinyoung unclasped his hands to lift one to Taecyeon’s chest, not pushing, but just lightly keeping him away. And the moment passed, the older caught himself, his expression faltering for just a second before his charming smile was back again and the hand with the handkerchief was dropped.

“There. All better,” The lord gave a chuckle to cover up any slip-up, and offered his arm out to Jinyoung. The companion thanked him with a practiced smile and took the arm, and they kept walking.

Jinyoung had experienced plenty of these moments in his career as a companion with many different people. He had never found his heart moved at them, working hard just to cover them up as smoothly as he could so that he could retain the customer instead of having them feel embarrassed for trying to push it too far – only if they were like Taecyeon and didn’t try to be forceful about it, of course. The situations were awkward, but they were a hazard of the occupation, really, as Jinyoung was meant to work his charms the best he could with his customers. And he was the best at what he did.

Never had he felt the urge to lean in, to take that final step and dive into something he hadn’t explored, not before the appearance of Im Jaebum. Jinyoung wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or relief that surged through him at the thought that nothing had changed in him, that he hadn’t started feeling this way with any tall, dark and handsome that showed interest in him. It was a bit like dread, or anticipation, maybe. It made him want to see Jaebum once more, the quicker the better.

However, there was no guarantee he would see the mysterious man ever again, nor did Jinyoung have the leverage to influence that he would. Nevertheless, he kept hoping. He wanted to find out just how completely Jaebum had managed to sink his hooks into him, and how far Jinyoung would want to follow on his string.

Maybe it was dangerous, but it was a rush, something Jinyoung didn’t get too often. He was willing to play, if Jaebum was. For now it was Jaebum’s turn, and the companion could do nothing but wait.

He didn’t have to wait too long.

For anyone else, Jinyoung would not have been willing to leave his rooms after sunset, when his schedule was empty and he had been ready to take his clothing off, do some exercising to keep his body healthy, and take a long bath. Yien knew that, and Jinyoung hated the guard a little for knowing the companion well enough to know to disturb him for this, although he had explicitly stated many times over the years that he would take no odd same day requests after he had retired from the lounge for that day. But his excitement to see Jaebum and get an explanation for the man’s absence was greater than the urge to pettily try to prove Yien wrong about him by passing up the chance to see this singular customer. With a quick straightening of his clothes and a check to his mirror that his hair and makeup was still passable, Jinyoung followed Yien out of his quarters.

It surprised him more than a little when instead of leading him to the lounge or straight to one of the tea rooms, Yien led him down the corridor to the servant’s exit, handing Jinyoung an umbrella while choosing out a cone-shaped straw hat for himself to keep most of the rain off while not occupying his hands. Jinyoung raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Yien, as he had  _ definitely _ not expected to be requested to go outside. It had started raining an hour prior, and by now it was pouring, a rare heavy spring rain that promised good harvests in the summer.

At his unvoiced question, Yien shrugged. “He asked for ten minutes with you outside, even though he was told it would cost the same as an hour, and double that for taking you out. He insisted, still.”

Jinyoung pursed his lips, mulling the information over for a moment before nodding. He was not about to look a gift horse into the mouth, although accepting it would inconvenience him.

Taking the companion’s silence as agreement, Yien moved to put outdoor shoes on, opening the door for Jinyoung once the companion had found neat shoes that would fit his feet. He would have to be careful not to step into any puddles or mud to avoid dirtying or soiling the silk shoes, briefly longing for a time when he could wear more casual kinds of footwear and worry less about the weather. Those days were long past, and no use to mull over.

It was an outpour outside, the sound loud on the canopy of Jinyoung’s umbrella. The companion and his guard made their way down the paved path to the back gate as briskly as the companion’s robes would allow. Even the smallest gust of wind threw water onto his expensive colored silk, and Jinyoung grit his teeth so he wouldn’t curse. He was practically never outside in this sort of a rain, and if he absolutely couldn’t avoid it due to some or other prearranged event he had been paid to attend, he would travel by palanquin from door to door.

And yet somehow, the terrible weather suddenly hardly mattered when they got out of Red Orchid’s back gates, and Jaebum was there.

He had his usual dark robes, wet from the shoulders where his wide straw hat, much like Yien’s, didn’t quite reach to cover them. It seemed like Jaebum had been pacing next to the gates, but at the sound of Yien opening them so that they may step out, he halted and turned to face them. His eyes met Jinyoung’s the moment the companion had time to strengthen from the bow the low gate forced him to do to get through. The way Jaebum’s eyes lit up as a slow smile spread on the face that had been stoic just a moment ago was… It made Jinyoung feel more things than it should, for such a small thing.

“Hello,” Jaebum breathed, informal and straightforward like always. He stepped closer to Jinyoung so that they were at a comfortable talking distance, and Jinyoung could feel Yien’s presence leave his side, the guard moving to stand at a distance to give them an illusion of privacy.

“Good evening,” Jinyoung answered, keeping his tone of address formal and voice calm, not betraying the way his heartbeat had quickened in Jaebum’s company. “It’s been a while, my lord,” he added prickly, choosing the address form Jaebum had expressed a dislike for on purpose to communicate his annoyance over being left hanging on an appointment more than two weeks ago now.

Jaebum furrowed his brow minutely. “I’m sorry for not being able to make it to our agreed meeting,” The man apologized promptly, which was wise for his own good, “I had to look into what you said and find out the truth for myself.”

Jinyoung blinked. “What?” It came off as more impolite than he should be, but he was thrown off by Jaebum’s answer enough to not realize his slip-up.

“You told me Yang Hyunsuk was arranging a coup,” Jaebum explained, “As I had not been aware and it’s certainly not in line with what I want, I had ascertain his treason for myself, because as you said, anyone who paid attention would notice where their loyalties laid.”

Jaebum huffed, and Jinyoung felt vaguely guilty for exposing Jaebum to all of this, but when it came down the line, he did not feel sorry for Yang Hyunsuk or Jaebum that the cotton cled man found out what sort of a man the Left State Councillor really was.

“I didn’t get anything concrete, but I heard him talking with associates from the Yoo and Choi families. You were right, they do not have this dynasty’s best interests at their heart,” Jaebum admitted, and Jinyoung nodded. Although telling the other man had been rash, there was never any doubt in Jinyoung’s mind that he could have been wrong about the Yang family’s allegiances.

However, another piece of information solidified in Jinyoung’s mind, one that he had hoped to be true so desperately, and from the way Jaebum had reacted last time – from the way he was speaking now, it seemed Jinyoung’s prayers had been answered.

“You’re not for the coup?” The companion asked carefully. He had already crossed the line of not talking politics with customers with Jaebum. What was one more transgression?

“No, never.” Jaebum looked affronted at the query, making a face. “I’ve been out of Hanseong so long, I had no idea something like this would be going on, although in hindsight I should have suspected it. Something seemed off about Yang from the start, and although I did suspect that he was looking for an angle for himself, I did not come to think it would go this far.”

Jinyoung exhaled slowly, making sure it didn’t come off as shaky. Jaebum’s vehement denial of knowingly siding with those planning a coup was wearing down on his defenses. The older man seemed sincere, his posture tense and eyes frantic. He had come in the middle of the night to Jinyoung to have him understand his intentions, and he seemed desperate for the younger to believe him.

And he did. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but in the end, what difference did it make? Jinyoung would not be part in one or the other coup, he was only one of the many civilians who wished to see another day and live in peace. Matters of politics were not his concern, although they could upend his life in a blink.

He could believe Jaebum if he so wished. And he wanted to, and so he did.

He turned Jaebum’s words over in his head. There were several implications in his words, but more importantly, Jinyoung still had no clue as to what Jaebum was hoping to achieve in Hanseong.

“What are you going to do now?” Jinyoung asked, not wanting to pry too much in the older man’s business, but still curious about it.

“I need to find families opposed to Yangs, on the side of the Crown Prince,” Jaebum replied, like it was no big deal to reveal intentions to a companion he hardly knew, and paused for a moment before continuing, “I was hoping you could help, actually. Since you knew about their allegiances, surely you’d know others’, too?”

Jinyoung barely hesitated. After all, the older was revealing him much more dangerous things than he was, so it was the least he could do to repay him. Although, of course, the companion answered only because he wanted to.

“Ambassador Park’s, Minister of Defense Jeon’s and Chief State Councillor Ok’s families have always acted strongly in favor of the Crown Prince, as far as someone like me would know.”

The modesty was unnecessary in this case. Through their customers in high places, the companions of the Red Orchid were better aware than most who were not nobles about politics and allegiances. Jinyoung himself served members from two of the three families. He was intimately aware of their sympathies towards the current regency.

“The Park’s, the Jeon’s, the Ok’s,” Jaebum repeated, seemingly distracted. His expression got darker, more serious, a deeper furrow appearing between his brows. The stare in his eyes was intense, a mix of something like longing and determination, and Jinyoung couldn’t have moved even if he had wanted to.

Jaebum lifted a hand slowly, allowing time for Jinyoung to notice the movement and avoid or deny it if he liked. When the companion didn’t flinch, the tips of cold, calloused fingers came to rest on Jinyoung’s cheek by his dimple, bringing the wetness of rain onto the makeup on his skin. The touch was bold although it was barely there, but Jinyoung allowed it. There was something both possessive and revenant about the caress.

“I saw you out with the son of the Chief State Councillor today,” Jaebum begun, his words calculated, pitch changing to something low and dangerous, “You should know better than to chase the heart of a married man.”

The words were a pang in Jinyoung’s chest. He didn’t like the condescension in Jaebum’s tone, nor did he appreciate the implication of ulterior motives behind his actions. He straightened his posture and leveled the traveller dressed in dark robes with an icy stare.

“I have had Taecyeon’s heart since years before he married, and it makes no difference,” Jinyoung stated matter-of-factly. He leaned out of the light touch on his cheek, leaving Jaebum’s hand hovering in air as he dealt the final blow, “And you should know better than to harbor jealousy over someone whose time can be bought, hyung.”

It was more than a slap on Jaebum’s wrist, it was a stab directly at the heart of the problem that Jaebum had had with his vaguely intimate moment with Taecyeon earlier. It was jealousy, loud and clear – another hazard of Jinyoung’s occupation, and Jinyoung was more than familiar with it. It had always been an inconvenience, but never had it been as  _ annoying _ as it was to him now, because what Jaebum was worried about was a moot point. The touch Jinyoung had welcomed when it came from Jaebum was worlds from the calculated, fleeting contact he had allowed Taecyeon.

Jinyoung’s words pulled the rug from under Jaebum’s argument. They served as a reminder to both of them about what their relationship was, and what it wasn’t. It was a reminder Jinyoung should heed, but it seemed like he was a hypocrite after all, chasing something that he knew he shouldn’t. However, the object of said chase had never been Taecyeon, and never would be.

Jaebum’s eyes turned sadder now, receiving the reprimand in the words. “I know. I’m sorry.” The tone of his voice was earnest, laden with regret. “I just hoped– nevermind.”

The plainly clothed man sounded sincere in his apology, clearly realizing that he had overstepped with his words, and Jinyoung’s heart ached for him. Jaebum seemed disheartened, taking Jinyoung’s words as rejection, although that wasn’t how he had meant them, not this time. It was up to him to rectify the misunderstanding, or the older might back off, think that everything that Jinyoung had allowed up until now was what he allowed to everyone. And that certainly wasn’t true.

Before Jaebum could put distance between them, or perhaps say something like that he had misinterpreted the situation, Jinyoung took half a step forward, gingerly reaching out to hold one of the older man’s hands in his.

Jaebum’s hand was cold, and moist from where the rain had reached his fingers, but its weight was welcome in Jinyoung’s. Jinyoung curled his own warmer fingers around the back of the older man’s hand and rested fingertips on the rough palm of his hand.

The older man met his eyes with obvious surprise on his face, but his fingers curled automatically around the younger man’s fingertips, keeping them against his palm like something precious.

Jinyoung licked his lips in what was undeniably anxiety, but he needed to choose his words with care now. He dropped his eyes to where they were holding hands between them, both their hands and their sleeves from different worlds, dark and pale, cotton and silk. With how close they were standing, Jaebum’s cone hat and Jinyoung’s umbrella were catching the rain before it hit their hands, but drops from Jaebum’s hat were falling on Jinyoung’s sleeve and the tips of his shoes. Jinyoung didn’t mind, not now.

“Your hope is not misplaced,” the younger begun, “And moreover, because of that, jealousy is unnecessary.”

Driven by his own admission, Jinyoung turned Jaebum’s hand in his own so that he could swipe a thumb over the old scars on the man’s knuckles, appreciating each dip and mound. He could feel the calluses of the older man’s palm and fingers against the smooth skin of his own fingers, the contrast stark. Jaebum shivered at the soft caress.

As signified by his cotton garderobe and felt from the texture of his skin, Jaebum was someone who very obviously worked with his hands, handled the ropes of a boat or the hilt of a sword, depending on the day. On the other hand, Jinyoung’s hands were carefully washed, peeled and moisturized to keep the skin soft and plump. His hands would have been fit for a noble woman, although he was everything but, being both a peasant and a male. Only the latter was obvious from his own hands, their size far larger than a woman’s, the veins and knuckles more protruding than they would be on a lady. He had always had rather large hands, but they were far from being an unattractive trait for someone like him. Jaebum’s were slightly smaller in comparison, but everything from his rough skin to the scars and calluses of his hands screamed a working man. Jinyoung found himself fascinated by the wear so prevalent on the older man’s skin, on knuckles that had seen fights and fingers that knew hard work and no care. Jinyoung let his thumb trace veins on the back of Jaebum’s hand, watching their patterns like he hoped to memorize them. 

It was a decidedly intimate touch, to be caressing Jaebum’s hand like this, but that Jinyoung’s objective. To make his intentions clear.

Jaebum squeezed the hand in his and cleared his throat. Jinyoung raised his eyes to note that the man still had the expression of a panicked deer on his face.

“You mean… It’s okay?” He asked uncertainly, fingers flexing to squeeze the companion’s hand in his again, like he couldn’t believe it was there, laying in his. Jinyoung squeezed his fingers back in reassurance. “I’m not just imagining it?”

At Jaebum’s shyness, Jinyoung gained confidence. He cocked his head to the side and offered the older a coy smile. Although this was unknown territory, he found he was on familiar grounds. Flirting was something he knew, he had just never let it get this far, he had learned to always keep it behind a line that made those of his customers that wanted to flirt coming back, but kept them at a clear enough distance for it being possible for them to understand that he did not intend anything more with it. This was where Jaebum was different, and now Jinyoung was straightforwardly telling that to the older man.

“You’re not imagining it.”

There was something scary about being this open, like putting their situation into words was making it real. However, it also felt liberating to finally get some clarity to what was happening and to take responsibility for how he was acting with Jaebum as opposed to all of his other customers. It made something flutter in Jinyoung’s stomach, a sensation both a bit nauseating and pleasant.

The traveller let out what could only be described as a relieved chuckle, his cat eyes hiding in crescents to match the smile on his lips. Jinyoung found himself fascinated by the shape of them, his gaze dropping to trace the shape of Jaebum’s lips. His eyes lingered there perhaps too long, because when he raised them back up, Jaebum was looking at him with a question in his eyes that Jinyoung didn’t know if he wanted to know his own answer to. He felt like it would be a yes, but he also knew that it would be far too fast. That did not make it any less a temptation.

Jinyoung could make excuses about the rain making perception harder as it hid sounds underneath it and made visibility worse, but really, it was only that he was so taken with Jaebum that he failed to notice Yien’s approach to their side. He ended up jumping in surprise when the guard broke the moment he and Jaebum were having with a soft cough.

“The ten minutes are up, my lord. We need to make our way back inside.” Yien was directly addressing the traveller, but the point of his words was aimed at Jinyoung, to tell the companion that he had lost track of time and needed to be returning already. Nevertheless, the sudden sounds had made Jinyoung jerk in surprise.

Jinyoung flinching made Jaebum recoil, and the companion could tell that Jaebum’s free hand had moved to clutch the grip of his sword, a fighter’s instinct kicking in. Apparently both of them had been sufficiently distracted to make them unaware of their surroundings.

Jinyoung nodded, feeling shaky from being pulled back into reality so suddenly. “We’ll be just a moment.” Distractedly, he noted that Jaebum hadn’t let go of his hand, only shifted their grip so that he was clasping the younger man’s hand, instead of the other way around.

Yien retreated with a small bow, heeding the command of his charge, but this time he remained in the corner of Jinyoung’s eye as a reminder that their time was up. Nevertheless, the companion brought his attention back to the man who had come to visit him, creating a little space between them as the moment had already broken, but not straying too far, keeping the comfortable hold they had on the hands between them.

Jaebum’s expression was a mixture of things, elation pulling at the corner of his lips, but there was obviously still something weighing on his mind, something that he needed to get out, pressing his eyebrows down into a frown, and making his eyes flicker back and forth from Jinyoung’s eyes to the ground. Jinyoung was familiar with this kind of apprehension, being used to talking with the quiet type like Yien, who needed time to pick out the words they wanted to say. Still, it wasn’t as easy to wait for Jaebum to gather his wits as it was giving Yien the space to think. Jinyoung found he was more impatient when it came to the man in front of him.

Finally, Jaebum seemed to make up his mind, choosing what he wanted to express out loud. Unfortunately, they weren’t the words that Jinyoung wanted to hear.

“I don’t know when I can visit you next time.”

Jinyoung swallowed his initial reaction, the query of what and why. It was not a proper reaction for him to show, but nevertheless, it took considerable restraint to hold back. Focusing on keeping down the words he shouldn’t recklessly speak, Jinyoung lost control of the emotions that showed on his face, conveying confusion and upset before he remembered to reign in his expression.

Before he had the time to look for a better reaction to offer Jaebum, the older continued, “With this mess with the Yang’s, I have to get in touch with the people I actually want to side with, among other things. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit you again.”

Jinyoung bobbed his head a couple of times in what was supposed to be a nod of understanding. And he did understand, in a distant, rational way. Whatever Jaebum was in Hanseong for, if he had planned to work for or with the Yangs and now knew that they weren’t who he had thought they were, the man would naturally need to make new ties now. At least with Jinyoung’s advice, he would be getting into contact with good people this time. That was the pro in this moment that the companion was trying to focus on.

“Come see me when you can?” Jinyoung hadn’t meant for it to be a question, hadn’t meant to come off so weak, but his intonation had risen towards the end of the sentence, and with that, his voice betrayed some uncertainty. He tried to correct himself. “You’re welcome to drop by and ask for me any time.”

That, on the other hand, sounded rather distant, but Jinyoung wasn’t sure what else to say. Unlike for his other regulars, for Jaebum Jinyoung would go out of his way to meet with the man in the middle of the night, like he had this time. But of course he had appointments to respect and if a different regular dropped by while Jinyoung was working, he would see any of them on short notice, so in some measure, Jaebum wasn’t  _ that _ different. There were only nuances.

It seemed to be enough for Jaebum, though, because he was smiling again, his thumb caressing the underside of Jinyoung’s wrist. The coarse skin of the thumb against the thin, sensitive skin of Jinyoung’s wrist made the companion involuntarily shiver under the touch, distracted from wondering whether or not Jaebum was amused because of Jinyoung’s slip-up with having asked the older to come back.

“I will, as soon as I can.”

Yien moved in the periphery of Jinyoung’s eye, deliberately drawing the companion’s attention. The action signaled Jinyoung that the extra time they had stolen was coming to an end, and if he didn’t bring his meeting with Jaebum to a close now, Yien would. The companion gave an almost imperceptible nod to his guard, a sign that his message had been received and acknowledged.

Jinyoung gave Jaebum a small smile, squeezing his fingers once more before letting go. “I have to go now.”

Yien took his place to the side and behind his liege. The moment was officially over with Jaebum’s eyes glancing over to the guard before returning to Jinyoung again, but at least his gentle smile returned when he regarded the companion.

“Sleep well, pretty flower.”

“Stay safe, hyung.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much enjoy writing these scenes that contrast how different Jaebum is for Jinyoung than everyone else, like the lovely friendship scene with Markjin and the scene with Taecyeon :')
> 
> No but seriously, I feel sorry for Taecyeon. He has been nothing but a gentleman towards Jinyoung, pining after him for YEARS.
> 
> Originally there was gonna be a kiss scene in the JJP rain scene but that felt like things were moving too fast soooo I changed that. I much prefer how it is now. Now I'll have to see if I can get the kiss to happen,, at some point,,, we will see!
> 
> I'll be back to Playhouse next, so the next update will take a little longer again, but please be patient~ You can follow me on my [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/seitsemannen) for updates on my progress!
> 
> As always, please let me know what you thought of this chapter!


	6. Sixth Petal

Wonpil had found out that Jinyoung had gone out to meet Jaebum after hours. Apparently the musician had been returning from a late event when Jaebum had come in, and he had made his guard Jaehyung keep an eye on Yien after Yien had insisted on consulting Jinyoung on whether or not he wanted to see Im Jaebum, getting suspicious when usually late evening visitors for Jinyoung were refused straight off the bat. It had been obvious that something out of the ordinary was going on, and Wonpil had caught on it perfectly, but unfortunately that meant that Yien and Jinyoung had been unable to keep the meeting as secret as they would have liked to.

That spelled trouble, because having found out about how out of the norm Jinyoung had acted, Wonpil had gotten into his head that Jinyoung should stop seeing Im Jaebum, and Jinyoung was unsure which of Wonpil’s actions annoyed him more: prying into Jinyoung’s business, or trying to tell him what to do.

Probably the latter, because curiosity Jinyoung could understand. It wasn’t like they had a lot of things happening in their lives with how restricted they were.

“It’s not like you need him for his money, and he definitely has no status or reputation he could use against you – you can drop him without consequence, and you  _ should, _ he hasn’t spelled anything but trouble since he first arrived,” Wonpil argued, and there was something sincere and desperate in his voice as he tried to get through to Jinyoung. “He has no real name for himself, enough money to make him suspicious, and what we know of his ties, those are dubious too.” Wonpil had been there with Jinyoung to see Jaebum at the table with Yang Hyunsuk, so that particular conclusion Jinyoung could not fault his friend for, especially since he had made the exact same deduction. But otherwise, Wonpil sounded just like Yien, meddling into business that wasn’t his to meddle into.

Although, perhaps it should be a warning sign that two of Jinyoung’s closest friends, both known for their levelheaded and rational personalities, were speaking against Im Jaebum.

“You sound like Yien-ge,” Jinyoung said against his better judgement, “And neither of you should be telling me who I should or should not be seeing.”

Wonpil immediately latched onto that piece of information. “If we don’t tell you to reconsider, who will? Omonim never sees you with your customers anymore, so it’s not like she could have a say either.” Only the youngest companions dealing with their first customers were accompanied by Mrs. Kim. Naturally the more experienced companions did not need chaperones.

“That’s why it’s up to my judgement.”

“And so far there’s been no reason to doubt that,” Wonpil conceded, “But with Im Jaebum, you are going against your own rules for a man you, or anyone else for that matter, barely knows!”

Wonpil’s words hit their target, because he was absolutely right. Jinyoung was making many exceptions for Im Jaebum, that much was undeniable. It wasn’t like there was anything untrue in what Wonpil was saying – on paper, there wasn’t really anything going for Jaebum. It was just that Jinyoung  _ wanted to _ keep seeing Jaebum, but this made it really hard for him to argue against Wonpil, because it wasn’t a good reason at all.

“I am,” Jinyoung admitted, knowing that to pretend otherwise would be both futile and insulting. “But I do it at my discretion, Wonpil-ah. If I choose to treat Jaebum-hyung differently, that’s my choice.”

Jinyoung belatedly realized he has used a rather familiar tone of address as he referred to Jaebum, and he reigned back the urge to wince. Wonpil shot him a bewildered look, the slip not overlooked.

“Gods, are you listening to yourself right now? Since when are you this irrational?” Wonpil exclaimed. So it hadn’t gone unnoticed either that Jinyoung hadn’t really had any arguments against what his friend was saying. “You’re acting familiar with and making dangerous concessions to someone we know nothing about, someone who is wholly unpredictable because we don’t know where he stands! He has no reputation to lose, no family to blame, he could basically just murder and rob you and disappear in the night, and we would have no way of holding him accountable!” Wonpil was right, he was right, but he didn’t  _ know _ Jaebum, didn’t know his soft smile or the warmth in his eyes or the way the man fumbled when Jinyoung flirted with him just a little– ”Can’t you at least see that you should stick to your rules with him more than anyone else to keep yourself safe?”

“I know, but I don’t care!”

It was the wrong thing to say, and Jinyoung knew it. But it was also the truth, as much as what Wonpil was saying was. If Jinyoung were a purely rational being, he never would have ended up with Im Jaebum as a customer in the first place. It was just his gut, his feelings that got him trusting the man and so caught up in him that he was breaking his rules and exposing himself to danger. But Jinyoung didn’t care. He was doing what he wanted instead of what was rational. And maybe it didn’t make any sense, but it  _ felt right. _

Wonpil looked offended, if not even  _ hurt _ at Jinyoung’s words. The musician furrowed his strong eyebrows and looked at his friend with disappointment, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you.”

That marked the end of that argument, as neither of them had more to say. They simply didn’t see eye to eye, and both of them were too rational to continue a futile argument after that much had become clear.

Jinyoung was still worked up by the confrontation when he stepped back into his room to calm down, unable to go to the lounge in his state of emotional distress. He was upset by the confrontation, but he could understand perfectly where Wonpil was coming from. If someone had told Jinyoung before he had met Jaebum that he would be acting like he was with a customer, Jinyoung would have laughed and told them that such a thing would never happen. There was nothing Jinyoung could say in his defense lest he admit to having some…  _ feelings, _ for Im Jaebum, and that was perhaps the only thing that would be worse than what he had already said.

He knew Yien was coming before the guard even made a sound, and Jinyoung barely gave him time to drop down from the ceiling when he was already rejecting him with, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Then maybe I don’t need to say anything, because you already know it.” Yien countered smoothly, his voice calm, placating, far too understanding. Yien knew him far too well. Jinyoung sighed and turned to face his guard, the slender man dressed as unnoticeably and plainly as ever, but holding himself with a confident stature now that there was no one else present that Yien would have to play a role for. If he wore different clothes, with his face, Yien could have easily passed off as a noble from Qing.

“He’s not wrong. You weren’t wrong. But I’m not being blindly reckless, I’m aware I’m going further than I usually would. It’s a risk I take knowingly,” Jinyoung explained, wanting the older to understand.

“And I never said you were unaware of the risks you are taking. You asked me about Im Jaebum and I told you what my view of him as a customer is.” Yien stated simply, an amused smile playing at the edge of his lips, although his words were petulant. And he was right, wasn’t he? Now that Jinyoung thought back, at no point had Yien expressed doubt in him. He was unjustly taking Wonpil’s words out on his guard.

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung immediately apologized, lifting a hand to rub his fingers against his temple. Was he getting a headache? “I’m upset because of Wonpil-ah, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“No harm done,” Yien reassured him, and picking up on his pain, the guard stepped up to him, taking Jinyoung’s hand gently away from his face to prevent him from smudging his makeup, or getting some of it on his hair. “Have you wound your hair too tight today? Is it pulling on your scalp?”

Yien gently massaged Jinyoung’s temples, and the companion closed his eyes with a sigh.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

  
  
  


It was natural that he and Wonpil started avoiding each other after that, if it was possible without being too obvious. It felt too awkward to interact with Wonpil, knowing that they had a disagreement on something they both deemed important, so they danced around one another by an unsaid agreement.

It wasn’t like Jinyoung wasn’t having a bad week already, and on top of that he had an appointment with Yang Hyunsuk. The man didn’t want appointments at the Red Orchid often, only perhaps every few months, and instead mostly booked Jinyoung for events where he wanted to impress others by his wealth, showing off that he was able to book the most expensive companions for several hours at ease. Usually Jinyoung had no trouble dealing with the man, the sessions a couple of hours of Yang Hyunsuk bragging about his and his family’s achievements while Jinyoung served him drinks and food, smiling and showing appropriate amounts of interest at the right points. It wasn’t hard, since he didn’t actually have to do much anything, compared to customers who actually put some value in his talents and abilities at conversation. He should have no trouble this time either, but with everything Jinyoung knew now through Jaebum made him feel even less benevolent towards Yang Hyunsuk.

Everything was going smoothly, following the template of most of Yang Hyunsuk’s visit to the Red Orchid. First there were the compliments the old man dished to him with a far too appreciative tone to be tasteful, and Jinyoung would receive them gracefully with a practiced modest smile and a thank you. Then was the meaningless small talk, where Jinyoung got to provide premeditated answers to inquiries about his health and the weather lately while he poured the tea, and then there would be the bragging. Yang Hyunsuk would talk about things like the latest decor he got for his house, how his grandchildren were growing well, the achievements of his sons. At the same time he would complain about everything possible, always blaming other people than himself and revealing how cruelly he treated people from lower classes. The public weren’t appreciative of his good deeds. The troupe who had delivered his new drawer had slightly scraped it as they carried it into his house, so he had gotten them caned. His first grandson hadn’t learned archery as quickly as the second one had, so Yang Hyunsuk had gotten the teacher beat up, and threatened that if quick progress was not made, he would have his hand.

Jinyoung despised Yang Hyunsuk, but there was no avoiding him as a customer without risking serious damage towards Red Orchid and its inhabitants. At least the man was concerned about his reputation, so he hadn’t pressed the limits of what Jinyoung would do more than the one time when Jinyoung had provided his initial refusal and reasoning. And having access to Yang Hyunsuk was good in the terms of gathering information, since he was the puppet master behind the scenes, controlling the strings of many others.

Of course, even men born into important families with wealth and connections didn’t get into a position like Yang Hyunsuk’s without being smart, so he was far from letting huge chunks of information slip just because he was distracted by a pretty face and a lot of alcohol. But there were crumbs that could be found by reading between the lines, if one knew what they were looking for.

And collecting information was almost as important for the Red Orchid as having the favor of powerful noble houses was. It was how they knew what was going on in the political field, and could position themselves in a way that they could remain neutral and keep the favor of competing families, and gain further favors. And Yang Hyunsuk was a man whose favor the Red Orchid definitely wanted to keep, so naturally Jinyoung was well-versed by now in how to handle the man and how to gather information from him and around him to know where he stood. With Yang Hyunsuk, it was the small things that gave away how things were going for him and his family, so it was the small things that Jinyoung watched out for.

An important sign was that despite all of his complaining, Yang Hyunsuk was in a relatively good mood. Clearly he was as concerned as ever to see that his sheltered offspring would succeed in whatever he lined up for them, and treated servants notoriously badly, but the punishment for the archery teacher was mild coming from him, considering that he had been given a warning before the actual cutting of hands, and Yang Hyunsuk did worse punishments than caning for peasants who damaged his things. It wasn’t exactly legal for him to punish servants of other people, but no one dared to stand up to Yang Hyunsuk anyway, unless perhaps it was another powerful high noble family, and of course Yang Hyunsuk knew enough to not step on the toes of other families in a manner that would tie directly to him.

But it seemed that from Yang Hyunsuk’s point of view, things were going swimmingly for him. He talked proudly of his family, credited the achievements for himself and indicated that he would in coming weeks be celebrating with a big feast, where he would require for the Red Orchid to provide Jinyoung and a choice of other companions for several days of celebrations. Jinyoung gave him the pleasant fake smile he had perfected ages ago and answered that he would talk with Mrs. Kim about it, and the Yang family only needed to provide them with the dates and any other details of the event.

There were several conclusions Jinyoung could draw from just this information, combining what he knew from before.

Yang Hyunsuk was planning something big, and that was due to happen in the coming weeks, since what he was discussing with Jinyoung would be the celebration following the plan’s success.

It was logical to infer that Jaebum was supposed to be part of these plans, but it seemed like Yang Hyunsuk was undisturbed by Jaebum taking part, as he was in a good mood and going forward with whatever coup or power move it was. Considering that, it seemed likely that Jaebum was hardly an irreplaceable part of Yang Hyunsuk’s plans, so perhaps the old man hadn’t even registered him leaving. That was good, because being under Yang Hyunsuk’s radar was always better than being on it.

But with Yang Hyunsuk going forward with his plan, the political field was likely to go through turmoil. Likely with the King’s sickness Yang Hyunsuk would seek to gain control over the heir to the throne, but how, Jinyoung couldn’t possibly guess. As far as was in the knowledge of Jinyoung and others at the Red Orchid, the Crown Prince was fairly secure with members from the Ok, Park and Jeon families placed in relevant positions to protect him, but Jinyoung guessed that was where the Crown Prince’s personal guard came in. And that must be why there had been so much additional pressure on Choi Youngjae lately, so that they would get someone from  _ their _ families close to the Crown Prince. Choi Youngjae was a decent boy, but when it came to something like this, Jinyoung wasn’t sure where the boy would stand if push came to shove while he served in the Crown Prince’s guard. Filiality was a crucial virtue, after all, and the Choi family had been aligned with the Yang family for ages.

The appointment couldn’t have ended too quickly. Jinyoung was never as glad for an interruption as when Chaeyoung knocked to let them know their time was up, and the companion had to bid his least favorite regular farewells with the usual false smiles and deep bows. Nevertheless, it had been a very successful meeting, with Yang Hyunsuk leaving happy and the Red Orchid securing a valuable event in the near future, although Jinyoung privately hoped that Yang Hyunsuk’s plans would fail and thus any celebration would be unnecessary.

Another rather precious thing was the knowledge Jinyoung had gathered over the conversation, which is why he went to seek out Mrs. Kim immediately afterwards to rely his suspicions about Yang Hyunsuk’s plans, along with the news about the large event they might get an order for in the coming days. He didn’t mention Jaebum’s part in how he had gotten some of this information, but it was of no consequence. Jinyoung had direct access to Yang Hyunsuk – it wasn’t like there would be a need to question his sources. On top of that, they had known for a long while now that something was brewing, sooner or later.

Mrs. Kim nodded as she listened attentively to his words, her expression serious, highlighting the wrinkles around her eyes.

“Yes, Jinyoungie, it seems that dark and difficult times are ahead of us. We will prepare accordingly, and hope that the storm only rocks our boat instead of upending it.” 

She reached up a small hand to brush a strand of hair, falling out of the elaborate hairdo, out of Jinyoung’s face. She left her hand lingering at his hairline, fretting over him in a motherly gesture. As far as Jinyoung was concerned, she was his mother – she may not have given birth to him, but in every other aspect she had acted as one. Anything Jinyoung could do to protect her and take care of her, he would.

He nodded, reaching out a hand to straighten out her already impeccable robes. He missed the times she would to play with his hair and squeeze his cheeks, but those days were past. Jinyoung wasn’t a child anymore, and she took care to give him all the space to grow that she could. He appreciated it, although sometimes he childishly wished he could climb into her lap again and fall asleep, ignorant to how precarious their place in this world was.

She smiled at him gently before retracting her hand again, thanking Jinyoung for his hard work and suggesting that he retire for the afternoon. Jinyoung was thankful for the out, as normally, he would have been expected to still go sit a couple of hours in the lounge, which these days was more taxing than usual, as he had to pretend Wonpil didn’t exist for both of their benefit.

Jinyoung wished he and Wonpil would overcome their differences soon. It wasn’t even like Jinyoung was seeing Im Jaebum these days, what with the traveller gone and god knows where, and there was no clue about when he might return. But they were both prideful men, so it seemed like neither of them was ready to admit having been wrong, and they were stuck in this stalemate for a while longer.

  
  
  


Jinyoung didn’t hear of Im Jaebum until a week later, when Park Jinyoung had his monthly visit. They were in the middle of a conversation about how certain patterns in clothing were used to signify status and bring good fortune, when Mr. Park switched the topic suddenly.

“I had a peculiar and persistent visitor this week,” He began, a pleasant expression on his face, but from the sharp look in his eyes Jinyoung knew that this wasn’t idle, casual conversation, although it might have seemed so to an outside observer who didn’t know the intricacies of Mr. Park’s tactics of gathering information. Jinyoung had learned from the best. “I was told he first appeared at my gates in cotton robes, insisting to see the head of our house, but when he was refused, the next day he came back in silk robes and was granted audience, as someone from a noble class would be expected to be.”

_ Jaebum, _ Jinyoung just knew. Who else could it be? He did his utmost not to react visibly, but seeing as Mr. Park had brought this topic up, he already at least suspected this to be relevant or related to Jinyoung.

“I spoke to him then, intrigued. He alluded that he had been directed to get in touch with me by a mutual acquaintance. Remembering what you had said about a singular customer, I… inferred.” Of course. There was no way Park Jinyoung would forget any piece of information entrusted to him. “So naturally I asked about the Eight Dog Chronicles to gain more evidence towards my theory. He knew exactly what I was talking about when I asked him about the peonies, so I suspect this Im Jaebum is that customer of yours?”

Jinyoung nodded. There was no use in denying it, when Mr. Park already had all the pieces of the puzzle. He kept his hands firmly pressed on his thighs so as not to betray nervousness by fiddling his robes.

Park Jinyoung hummed in assent, stealing a moment to consider by taking a sip of tea with grace fit for someone born to class.

“Any idea why Im Jaebum wants to gain access to the royal palace?”

Jinyoung looked up at Mr. Park in alarm, such a valuable piece of information divulged so easily by the older man. It was also a complete surprise to the companion, after all, he had no idea what Jaebum was after. Access to the royal palace, naturally, sounded both suspicious and worrying, but Jaebum  _ had _ given up being part of Yang Hyunsuk’s plans, hadn’t he? Why did he then need to get to the palace?

Jaebum had said he needed connections. Was this why?

“I see,” Mr. Park said when Jinyoung didn’t answer, interpreting his reaction perfectly. “You didn’t know, and don’t have an idea as to why. Well, in any case I told him that I can’t get him access. I wouldn’t for anyone I don’t know perfectly, with how tense the current political situation is, snakes and tigers alike posing to strike.”

Jinyoung swallowed and nodded again. Only a person completely unaware of politics would be blind to the tension going in noble circles as the King remained ill and the Crown Prince was too young to keep power hungry ministers in line if worst came to worst and the King passed. But Im Jaebum had been unaware of Yang Hyunsuk’s standing – he might not even realize how dangerous waters he was treading, seeking entrance to the palace. Another wave of worry about the mysterious man flooded Jinyoung. Rash movements in these uncertain times could easily get even high nobles killed, let alone a person with no real name or status for himself.

The rest of Mr. Park’s appointment flew by in a haze. Jinyoung didn’t know what to do with this new piece of information. Wonpil’s words about how they didn’t know anything about Im Jaebum and couldn’t be sure where he stood rang in Jinyoung’s head, and they were right, of course they were. Jaebum wanted to get into the royal palace, and Jinyoung had no idea if the reason was that he was up to no good, or if he was blind or perhaps plain suicidal.

But once more, there was nothing Jinyoung could do but wait for news to come, or for Jaebum to visit him again. He swore to himself that the next time the man appeared in front of him, he would bully the information out of him, customer relationship be damned. Not knowing what Jaebum was up to was driving Jinyoung insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people may call this a filler chapter. For me, this is important build-up. I hope you enjoyed me showcasing Jinyoung in his life and how these political plots are coming together.
> 
> If everything goes to plan, Jaebum's identity or at least some of his plans will be revealed in the next chapter! Dunn dunn dunn. I have been in a good place regarding writing lately, so like the last two updates, the next one shouldn't take _too_ long either :')
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter and I hope I can show you what comes next soon!


	7. Seventh Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, I hope you are having a nice, productive fall.
> 
> Things you need to know for this chapter:  
> Hour of the Ox = 1AM to 3AM  
> Ahjussi = name to call a middle-aged Korean man
> 
>  **TRIGGER WARNING:**  
>  In this chapter, an attempted non-con scene happens off-screen and it is discussed by the characters. If you want to skip it, you can browse through or skip the whole second scene of this chapter.

As days of uncertainty loomed over Joseon with every council meeting that the King missed, it became nearly as important for everyone worth their place on the political map to act as if everything was normal as to know that trouble was brewing. This, in a twisted way, translated to Red Orchid getting more customers on a daily basis than usual, because apparently spending money on leisurely things made one less suspicious of treason. Or something, Jinyoung wasn’t completely sure, but it was nonetheless amusing in a backwards manner.

The tense situation meant that all the nobles were out to watch each other for any dubious moves. Accusations of treason were easily made after a King died, and everyone wanted to be on the winning side after the dust settled.

It also meant that movement to and in the royal palace was monitored with the precision of a hawk. Those loyal to the King and the order of succession wanted to make sure no traitor would get troops into the palace, and loyalties of those already within the palace were gone through with a fine-toothed comb. At a stressful time as this, like Mr. Park said, giving or gaining access to the palace was risky. And Jaebum was trying to, although he had been advised against it. A lone man with no family ties seeking to get into the royal palace at a time like this? It was screaming an attempt to get an assassin inside, and would not be looked upon kindly.

Jinyoung was worried, because it might well be that he would not hear of Im Jaebum again. If caught, the man would get thrown into prison if he was lucky, or killed on the spot if he wasn’t. Jaebum wasn’t unaware of the situation and its dangers – why was it that important to get into the royal palace, if he wasn’t working with Yang or some other family wishing bad things upon the royal house?

  
  


Over the next couple of days, it became clear that Jinyoung wasn’t the only one acting out of their ordinary.

There were strings of bells installed into the passages winding throughout the ceilings of the Red Orchid. Guards were trained to know where the lines went, and how to avoid them, for the string was supposed to be touched and the bells made to ring for only one purpose: to alert other guards that a companion was experiencing distress large enough that their guard was unsure if they could handle it alone. The bells rang rarely, and through that, their purpose was filled – should they ring, it was only when something was really wrong.

Jinyoung was sitting in the lounge, working on another poem for Boa, when there was noise from the hallway. It was the softest little tinkle of bells, an innocent enough sound that it would not give customers any indication of alarm, but knowing what it meant made all the companions within hearing distance sit up straighter and pay attention to all sounds that followed. Unseen in the safety of the ceiling corridors, all guards that were not tied up protecting their companion would soundlessly make their way towards the sound to stand by to help, as according to protocol.

Usually things played out so that it would not become a public scene, but sometimes it didn’t work out that way. This was one of those times, because moments after the bells had rung there were sounds of scuffle, a man breathlessly shouting complaints towards being treated like this, and by then all the customers in the lounge knew something was wrong.

“I will not be denied!” The man shouted, and from that Jinyoung could already tell what the man’s transgression was. Jinyoung had no compassion for those who could not respect the boundaries the companions chose to uphold, having been on the other side of that disrespect one too many times.

Jiaer and Yien emerged into the lounge, dragging a half-dressed, kicking and screaming customer. Despite his larger weight, the man had no chance against two of the best guards of the Red Orchid, and there were several other guards trailing after them in case they would be needed to contain the irate customer. It seemed, however, that since they had the unruly customer in a hold, Jiaer and Yien had no problem controlling him, although he was proving himself difficult enough to cause this scene while they dragged him towards the curtains of the entrance.

Jinyoung recognized the middle-aged man as one of Bambam’s regulars, although Jinyoung had never seen him like this, robes hanging open to show far more than Jinyoung would have ever liked to see. However, knowing that he was Bambam’s, and seeing the blood trickling on Jiaer’s face from where he had split his eyebrow, the spell keeping Jinyoung unmoving in his seat was broken. The crown jewel companion moved to stand, abandoning his half-finished poem on the table to rush down from the balcony and towards where he guessed Bambam would be. Jinyoung was moving as quick as he could with the restrictions of his robes and the lingering thought that he should still appear as composed as possible for any customers present in the lounge, currently being calmed down by the companions accompanying them.

The standing orders for companions not involved in the incident when the bells rang was to remain where they were and keep their customers calm and let the guards and other serving members of the tea house to sort the situation out. But it was Bambam, so Jinyoung couldn’t stay back.

Jinyoung found Bambam in his usual room, sitting on the bedding in the corner, clutching his sheer robes closed around him while one of the servants was pressing a cold wet cloth on the edge of his lips to prevent swelling. The Thai boy’s big, round eyes were wide and haunted as they met Jinyoung’s, and as he recognized the older male, Bambam’s expression crumbled into a helpless one that made Jinyoung want to run back down the hallway to slam his fist into the face of the man that had assaulted the dongsaeng he loved. Instead, Jinyoung pulled on the ribbon keeping his outer robes closed, chucking the outermost layer of dark red silk off of himself without hesitation as he walked over to the Thai boy’s side. He draped the fabric over Bambam’s narrow shoulders, giving the younger the coverage he usually didn’t seek, leaving himself still well covered with the plainer red silk robe beneath the first outer layer of fabric, always one to wear all of the many layers of robes that many of the companions at the Red Orchid forwent. Not that it mattered much that Jinyoung’s body remained covered with just members of the tea house present, but nevertheless.

“Thank you, noona, can you leave us, please.” The sentence was phrased like a question, but there was no doubt that it was more a demand as per Jinyoung’s tone. She knew not to protest, his words carrying weight due to his position and his closeness to Bambam, so she stood to leave, and Jinyoung picked up the task of pressing the wet cloth against Bambam’s lip while the blonde boy pulled the robe Jinyoung had given him tighter around himself. Jinyoung was pulling Bambam into a hug before the door even closed behind her.

Bambam wasn’t crying, but he latched himself onto Jinyoung tightly, taking all the comfort and safety the older could offer with his presence. Jinyoung could feel the delicate pattern of lilies on the outer robe he had chosen to wear earlier today as the Korean male smoothed his fingers repetitively up and down Bambam’s back in a calming motion. After some minutes of him simply holding Bambam, waiting for the younger’s breaths to calm down, Jinyoung released him, picking up the wet cloth to dip in the cold water again before bringing it back to Bambam’s beautiful face, makeup smudged from the struggle.

Bambam blinked rapidly, his hands coming up abortively to take care of it himself, but Jinyoung gave him a look that made him drop them and let Jinyoung fuss over him. Jinyoung was holding the cold cloth steadily pressed on Bambam’s lip although it dripped water down his arm and made the sleeve of his robe wet. With his other hand he smoothed Bambam’s bleached locks of hair, grumbling something inconsequential about the younger ruining his scalp with the chemicals he used to make his hair appear exotic, when already everything from his beautiful golden skin to the fullness of his lips and the curious round shape of his eyes all screamed that he was both foreign and precious.

If Bambam wouldn’t want to talk about it, Jinyoung wouldn’t force him. However, he knew the younger well enough to know that Bambam would not be able to keep his silence for too long, and Jinyoung was right this time, too.

“I don’t think I want to do it anymore,” Bambam finally blurted, “Give my body to please others.”

The words came so suddenly that Jinyoung had to pause just for the shortest moment to gather his wits, but he knew already what he wanted to say.

“That’s alright. It’s your choice to whom you give your body, like it’s your choice whom you serve. You don’t have to give your body to all of them – you don’t have to give your body to  _ any  _ of them, but even if you’d choose just some or only one, it would be up to your discretion,” Jinyoung added, thinking to a certain young lord for whom Bambam had slowly but steadily developed a special affection.

“I’ve been avoiding doing it recently, I didn’t even realize it at first,” Bambam expanded, like he  _ needed _ to explain although he certainly didn’t. The lost look in his big eyes made Jinyoung want to cradle his face. “I just directed their attention elsewhere, said I didn’t feel like it this time, made excuses. Today this guy just… Said they couldn’t take it any longer, that I was being a  _ tease _ and I should cut to the chase.”

Bambam’s voice was shaking now, and Jinyoung shifted closer, wanting to take all the younger’s hurt away, wanting to just make everything  _ better _ so that his dongsaeng wouldn’t have such a confused, broken expression anymore.

“He started taking his clothes off, not listening to me when I told him it wasn’t going to happen. I shoved him off when he grabbed at my robes. He managed to get a punch in before Jiaer-ge had him in a chokehold.” Bambam let out a cold laugh. “I should have just used a safeword sooner. It’s not Jiaer-ge’s fault that asshole managed to hit me. I thought I could handle him alone.”

“Well, if you didn’t have a guard, I’m sure the next punch would have been you breaking his nose,” Jinyoung deadpanned, wanting to both reassure Bambam and get him to laugh. It worked, the younger companion’s laughter much warmer and more like his usual laugh this time around.

“I sure would have,” Bambam agreed amicably, the sparkle in his eyes still muted, but nevertheless, reignited. “But it’s still nice to have Jiaer-ge around.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” The devil that had been spoken of said with a grin from the doorway. The door had opened without the companions noticing, revealing both of their guards. It was unusual to see the guards at the Red Orchid using the hallways to get around, but today was an unusual day, as they usually didn’t have to throw guests out either. What was one more transgression of normalcy.

“Jiaer-ge!” Bambam greeted him in surprise, worry similar to Jinyoung’s flickering immediately onto his face seeing the mostly dried blood on Jiaer’s face. “You’re hurt!”

“Eh, this?” Jiaer gestured to his face and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Jiaer’s bravado was apparent in the leisurely grin spread on his lips as he played his injury off, but if the stormy expression on Yien’s face was saying anything, it  _ was _ something. Disregarding his own health and well-being like he far too often did, Jiaer’s focus shifted on Bambam, his expression immediately getting more serious as he stepped closer and regarded the lip Jinyoung was still pressing the cold cloth on to keep the swelling to the minimum. “Your pretty face is the important one here, and I’m currently regretting resisting the impulse to break that asshole’s neck.”

Yien wordlessly kneeled down next to Jinyoung, picking up another cold wet towel from the bowl before marching over to Jiaer’s side, pressing it against his bleeding eyebrow before the younger guard could complain. And complain Jiaer did.

“Ew, ge, it’s cold! Stop!”

Jiaer flinched away from the wet cloth, but that only made Yien grab his neck to keep the man still so his elder could clean his wound.

“Stop, it’s just a scratch! Ow!”

Jiaer’s loud protests made Bambam laugh again, and really, that was what was important right now. 

The next days Jinyoung kept Bambam close, helping him make it clear to his regulars that carnal acts were a service he no longer offered upon request, or at all. As it  _ had  _ been a service frequently offered, there were several of Bambam’s regulars that informed him that they would be seeking service elsewhere. Jinyoung was there to sit in the corner of Bambam’s room as these conversations with each regular were held, ready to glare at or insult any customer who might dare to insinuate anything bad about Bambam, or even  _ look _ at him the wrong way.

If they didn’t want to see Bambam anymore when they would not get him to shed his clothes, that was fine. It was their loss. Any threat that stopping this service would diminish Bambam’s value was useless with Jinyoung sitting there in all his most profiting companion at the Red Orchid glory, eight layers of opaque silk covering his body save for his face, neck and hands, never shed for any paying customer. Any implication that Bambam’s value would somehow be less because of what he  _ had _ done before were met by Jinyoung’s death glare. After the first time when Bambam had let the customer continue ranting and Jinyoung had delivered them insults so precise that the man had basically run out of the door, Bambam knew to interrupt them himself and tell them the conversation was over.

When Bambam asked Jinyoung after one of the worse confrontations with a now former regular if he should change his clothing to something less sheer now to appear more respectable and not give the wrong image, Jinyoung dismissed the suggestion firmly.

“You should wear what you want to wear, Bam-ah. What you do or don’t wear doesn’t decide what others are allowed to do with your body. You do.”

When Bambam sniffled as he hugged Jinyoung a little bit longer and tighter than usual, they both pretended Jinyoung’s words hadn’t moved the Thai companion to tears.

Many more customers remained than what Bambam had estimated when they had started out on this. Yugyeom, of course, was one of them, the young lord loudly insisting that the sex had  _ never _ been what he was here for, except maybe the first time, but after that it was just that Bambam was  _ so  _ enrapturing. The young lord had went totally red by the end of that rambled explanation, so adorable that Jinyoung had graciously refrained from teasing him or Bambam about it.

Secretly Jinyoung was expecting Yugyeom to make some sort of a declaration or offer soon, but frankly, knowing it had taken them this long and Yugyeom still hadn’t explicitly expressed any further intention towards Bambam, it might still take a while.

Nevertheless, the loss of several well-paying regulars would cut deeply into Bambam’s profits for a while, until he would be able to replace them with new regulars that respected his rules, as acquiring regulars always took time and effort. Going forward, Bambam still provided plenty of what he called a feast for the eyes and mind by wearing the sheer, flashy robes he so loved and flirting outrageously, so the difference was just that everyone kept their clothes on and nothing more than a teasing kiss on the cheek or a lingering touch on a thigh or chest happened. The Thai boy chose to be a tease, leaving his customers wanting for more, and it seemed to prove quite effective, from what Jinyoung was able to observe.

Bambam would be fine, that was for sure.

  
  
  


Jinyoung wasn’t the lightest sleeper, but he was so used to getting to sleep uninterrupted now that he had his own room, that he was already aware in his unconscious state that something was wrong before he was pulled from it.

“Jinyoung.” Yien’s voice was as soft as the touch on Jinyoung’s shoulder. Although the wake-up was gentle, it was still disorienting enough that Jinyoung didn’t get a word out. He blinked owlishly, eyes trying to find into the relative darkness of his room, only lit by the lantern that Yien had set down beside Jinyoung.

“You can go back to sleep if you like, I hate to be waking you up at this time anyway, but as by your standing orders, I came to say Im Jaebum is asking for you,” Yien said, voice pitched low and words a tad bit too fast for Jinyoung to comprehend in his groggy state of mind.

“What time is it?” Jinyoung asked, voice cracking from disuse. In an attempt to get himself more awake, he rubbed his hands over his face and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. During the day he would never touch his face like this to avoid disturbing his makeup, but he wasn’t mostly awake and his face was bare from any products, so he allowed this to himself.

“It’s the hour of the ox,” Yien answered, fingers brushing a strand of hair out of Jinyoung’s face habitually. Jinyoung’s brain was still trying to process the words Yien said before, but he was already pushing himself to sit up.

“Ox? And Jaebum is here?” Jinyoung didn’t hide his confusion, didn’t think about what sort of an expression would be on his face in this groggy, disgruntled state, and didn’t care. He was still trying to understand what was going on.

“Yes.” There was a note of annoyance to Yien’s voice. “He asked the night guards to get me without even telling them who he was. He’s taking your offer to ask for you any time very literally.”

It was only at this point that the understanding of what Jaebum being here really meant sunk in. Jinyoung was immediately more alert, tossing his blanket aside and getting up to search for something to toss over the white undergarment robe he wore to bed. Yien sighed, Jinyoung’s actions saying all there was to say about whether or not he would go out to meet Jaebum.

Having fingered through all the elaborate silk robes in his closet, Jinyoung hesitated for a beat before turning to where Yien was making his bed for the lack of anything else productive to do.

“Can you get me robe from the servants’ closets?”

Yien didn’t miss a beat, understanding what Jinyoung was getting at. He left without another word, quiet and efficient. Jinyoung walked over to his dresser to flip his mirror open, rolling the braid he kept his hair in while he slept into a quick, neat bun before hesitating, and picking the most inconspicuous hairpin to stick into his hair, a dark ebony one with small amber details that were unlikely to be visible in the dark anyway. It was a pin Jinyoung never wore, simply because it was too simple a hairpin for a companion of his degree, but he was glad he hadn’t given it away now. Yien returned with a simple plum color robe, helping it on Jinyoung, although compared to the usual layers of his robes any help putting on one cotton robe was nothing. With Jinyoung decently dressed, they were off, making their way through the dark corridors of the Red Orchid as silently as they could so as to not wake anyone else.

It was a rational choice for Jinyoung to dress like a servant at this hour. For one, it would have taken him far too long to get ready into his usual get-up, and secondly, a companion from a tea house as grand as the Red Orchid could not be seen outside at this hour. Servants and guards, however, could conduct business at whatever hour without bringing unwanted attention to their affairs. More than that they were conducting business that required acting under the shroud of night, that is. That was always something that could raise suspicion, especially at times like these, but it was common enough to not be too risky.

Practicality was the reason why Jinyoung had chosen this getup. However, a part of Jinyoung was also curious what Jaebum would think of him like this, without the layers of fine silk and accessories worth more than year’s work. How much differently would Jaebum view him?

Enough to have the man do a double take when Jinyoung straightened out of the bow the back entrance gate forced him into, apparently.

“Jinyoung?” Jaebum asked, bewildered, and Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, amused at how flustered Jaebum got when he hadn’t immediately recognized the companion out of his usual outfit and styling, mistaking him for a servant.

“Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour,” Jinyoung responded in a lazy tone that did nothing to hide how Jaebum had inconvenienced him. If he looked plain it was only Jaebum’s fault for requesting him at this hour, when any normal person would be asleep in their bed.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum apologized. “I can’t exactly move around freely with how things stand currently.”

That much was obvious from the situation. Nobody conducting legitimate business moved around in the middle of the night unless they had to. It was the hour for robbers and assassins, not people who had to wake up in the morning and conduct their business during sunlit hours. It was only because the Red Orchid was in a better district of Hanseong that it wasn’t completely dark even in the middle of the night, streets lit by torches lighting guarded gates, casting orange light and long shadows.

Jaebum’s eyes were roaming over his appearance, and Jinyoung folded his hands in front of himself self-consciously. He wished he had asked Yien to bring him another robe, which was a bit silly. He was decent and showing no more skin than he usually would. The night was certainly chilly, but he wasn’t cold. There had been no reason to donn more than one cotton robe, and yet, used to many layers, Jinyoung felt too light and bare like this.

“You look beautiful,” Jaebum said, like Jinyoung hadn’t just turned up with unbrushed hair and a bare face in basic cotton robes. Jinyoung was unsure how to take a compliment like this, one so clearly directed at  _ just him _ and not the effort he had gone through, the perfect beauty he created to please the eye.

“Thank you,” Jinyoung answered, bewildered more at how the comment had caught him off-guard and how it had made him feel rather than the comment itself. It was so weird for him to be seen from underneath the makeup and finery he wore, and Jinyoung felt… Exposed.

They had come to stand in front of each other again, resembling the last time they had met outside these gates, although the scene was different now. Jinyoung observed the way the light from the fire made Jaebum’s eyes appear in many shades of amber, bringing out the determination in his eyes. From what else Jinyoung could see, he had no obvious injuries, at least. It seemed like Jaebum had managed to pull off the impossible and get around a Hanseong preparing for a King’s death and the possible coups that followed without getting himself killed or at least beat up. Something heavy lifted off of Jinyoung’s heart.

Jinyoung folded his arms on his chest in a posture he rarely took, a posture not fitting a companion ready to serve. But Jinyoung wasn’t a companion ready to serve in this moment. It was well outside the norm that he was here, out at night and in servant’s garb, and it wouldn’t be just Wonpil who would freak out when news of Jinyoung being out here would inevitably spread once the guards who had fetched Yien would talk, and others would connected the dots. Jinyoung had come out here knowing the risk he was taking. He was not here as a companion with the purpose to please and get paid for it. Jinyoung was here for answers.

“Seeing as you are now back, I deduce you concluded the business you had to immediately take care of?” Jinyoung inquired, the tone of his voice conversational. Jaebum nodded, but before he could answer, Jinyoung cut in. “How was the palace this time of the year?”

Jinyoung revealing he had known Jaebum had something to do in the palace made the man visibly pause, tongue nervously flitting to wet his lips as Jaebum obviously scrambled for something to say that would not reveal too much. Jinyoung was having none of that.

“Mr. Park told me,” Jinyoung offered nonchalantly before Jaebum could construct an answer. “Mind explaining that?”

“Ah, that ahjussi,” Jaebum swore. “Smarter than I gave him credit. I’ve been careless,” 

“That we can agree on.”

Jaebum gave him a sharp look, probably because Jinyoung’s tone was rather petulant. Jinyoung didn’t really care. He was out in the middle of the night in a servant’s get-up just to meet with Im Jaebum. If anyone happened to see them, they would only see three lower-class people conducting some shady business. There were no appearances to keep, except to Im Jaebum, but seeing how the man conducted himself usually, and how far Jinyoung had already obviously went out of his comfort zone for him, Jinyoung didn’t care about projecting the image of a perfect companion to him anymore. So long as Jaebum did not forget who he was and who had the upper hand in their dynamics, that was enough.

“So?” Jinyoung prompted, a bit rude and impatient, when Jaebum had yet to offer an explanation. Yes, the companion was more irritable than usual now that he had been woken up in the middle of the night for this. Again, Jaebum could only blame himself.

Jaebum gave a long exhale before answering, his glance flickering to Yien, who was a short distance away, before returning back to Jinyoung. “I can’t talk about my business in the palace.”

Hah! “So you  _ were _ in the palace.”

Jaebum blinked.

“Didn’t you already know that?” Jaebum asked, confused.

“I knew from Mr. Park you were seeking entry into the palace. I didn’t know if you succeeded.” Jinyoung gave him the smirk of a predator that had just cornered its prey. Jaebum was far too easy to bait and play like this for information. It would have been funny, if the topic wasn’t so serious.

Jaebum groaned, bringing a hand to rub over his face. “I’m really no good at this.”

“You aren’t,” Jinyoung admitted easily. Okay, it  _ was _ kind of funny.

They fell into a short silence. Jinyoung allowed himself another moment of admiring how the copper hue of Jaebum’s skin was truly brought out in the light of the fire. Jinyoung’s chest felt like exploding out of conflicting feelings, amusement from how easy he was able to get information out of Jaebum now that he had even just the slightest clue of what was going on and annoyance at how little he truly knew about Jaebum. There was also worry about the future and what it meant for Jaebum’s health and safety, and irritation at how affected Jinyoung found himself by the man at all. Jinyoung did not enjoy feeling this much. It would have been much simpler if he didn’t care, but alas, that was not the case.

“Well?” Jinyoung prompted again when it became clear that Jaebum had gotten lost staring into his eyes, snapping Jaebum back into the moment, reminding him that Jinyoung hadn’t gotten the answers he wanted yet.

Jaebum sighed, obviously frustrated by Jinyoung’s persistence. “I really can’t talk about it.”

“You do realize what seeking access to the palace looks like, under these circumstances?” Jinyoung asked, continuing by answering his own question before Jaebum had time to even open his mouth again. “It looks like you’re up to no good, especially with your affiliation to the Yang’s, and frankly, it’s suspicious even without knowing that. You could have easily gotten killed for treason just for trying it if you had gotten caught.” It was only because Jinyoung had trained most of his life to keep tight control over himself that he was able to keep his voice pitched low instead of letting it rise in volume to match his exasperation. Although, maybe him yelling would have knocked some sense into Jaebum. Nevertheless, these were words that must not be overheard, and thus it was better that Jinyoung reigned his impulses in, no matter how freeing it could have been to just snap.

However, Jinyoung wasn’t the only one getting irritated by the turn the conversation was taking.

“I realize that! I’m not daft!” Jaebum grit through his teeth, the look in his eyes less warm and more dangerous than usual. They were teetering on the edge of fighting,  _ again, _ why was it anyway that recently their interactions escalated far too easily?

It seemed that Jaebum had just thought of something along the same lines, because he sighed again, running a hand over his face as some of the tension alleviated from his shoulders. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here, that’s done now. I came to see you like this because I have to lay low for a while to avoid getting pulled into something I want no part in.”

Jinyoung didn’t stop his bottom lip from pursing, making a displeased face. “You’re going away again?”

Jaebum looked pained, taking in Jinyoung’s expression. Jinyoung knew he wasn’t being perhaps completely fair for guilt tripping Jaebum about this, but he didn’t care. Jinyoung was tired of waiting for news from Jaebum anxiously, not knowing when he would see the mysterious cotton-cled man again. Furthermore, Jinyoung was angry at himself for how much this was affecting him. Wonpil’s words were repeating in his head over and over again. It was dangerous to be this involved, not knowing where Jaebum  _ really _ stood, and it was dangerous to let someone get to him like this in the first place. Jinyoung had known better than this, but it was already far too late.

“I have to,” Jaebum answered simply.

“And you won’t tell me why.”

“I  _ can’t _ tell you why, there’s a difference.”

Jinyoung took a slow breath to calm himself down enough to not burst from all the things he was feeling right now. Despite his attempts, Jinyoung couldn’t quite quell his irritation. “So why are you here then? Risking your life and my reputation, for what? Wanting to have one final look at my face?” The words came out more bitter than Jinyoung had intended, voicing a much truer fear than he had wanted to reveal – he was afraid that Jaebum saw him as something disposable, that this would be the last time they would see one another.

Rather than confirming Jinyoung’s fears, Jaebum let out an indignant sound at the accusation. “Yes, Jinyoung-ah, I missed you, and wanted to see you, but more than that, I promised, didn’t I? To come see you as soon as I could, so I did. You told me to come any time, I didn’t know it would be such a bother.”

The words first evoked a pang of guilt inside Jinyoung for what he had expected from Jaebum, fearing him to be like all those others that had left. The next moment the meaning of the words settled in and Jaebum’s sudden and blatant confession made something swirl uncomfortably in Jinyoung’s chest. It only made the complicated mess that he felt more powerful, more treacherous.

Jinyoung heard words like “you’re beautiful” and “I missed you” frequently from customers. He had no problem handling compliments, and usually, these types of confessions felt like empty words to him, or when it came to the other end of the spectrum, like desperation for something that was false. People yearned after a perfect image of Jinyoung that they had with Jinyoung’s help constructed in their heads, something that was Jinyoung’s job, after all. But none of those times had felt anywhere near as  _ much _ as now. Jaebum said the words with resolve and vulnerability all at once, like he was wary of Jinyoung’s reaction, but nevertheless, refused to hide how he felt.

However, to be honest, the biggest difference was how the words made Jinyoung  _ feel _ when it was Jaebum that said them. The dangerous difference. Like how now, Jinyoung’s heart was fluttering, the fight leaving him.

“I didn’t expect you to take it  _ this _ literally,” Jinyoung grumbled, but it was without heat. He was here, wasn’t he? He could have told Yien to tell Jaebum to come back another time, but he hadn’t. His words were no apology, but they were an olive branch nevertheless, an acknowledgment that Jinyoung  _ had  _ told Jaebum he could come at any time, and that he  _ did  _ go this much out of his way to accommodate Jaebum. That was as much as Jaebum would get as a concession at this stage, Jinyoung’s pride getting in the way.

Jaebum smoothed a hand over his jet black hair where he had pulled it into his usual hairstyle. Some stubborn locks of shorter hair framed Jaebum face in a way that should look sloppy, but ended up looking kind of attractive. It wasn’t fair.

“Listen,” Jaebum said with another sigh, his voice taking a placating tone, which made Jinyoung feel  _ more _ guilty. “I didn’t mean to endanger you or anything. I wanted to keep my promise, and I’ll make you another – once things settle down, I’ll come see you again, and next time I’ll make it during the day hours, so you won’t have to risk anything.”

It’s not like Jinyoung had a choice or even say here. If Jaebum needed to go away for a while for his own good, it was better that he did. Jinyoung wished he knew  _ why _ it was that Jaebum had to, but if Jaebum refused to tell him, like he was, what could he do?

“Will you ever tell me what’s going on?” Jinyoung lamented.

Jaebum hesitated, reaching a hand towards Jinyoung, but when Jinyoung made no move to avoid it, Jaebum rested it on his bicep, giving it a reassuring squeeze through the thin robes covering it. Conflict was obvious on Jaebum’s face, but so was determination. He took something small out of his own robes with his free hand.

“Here,” Jaebum begun, dropping his hand on Jinyoung’s arm lower to take his hand into his. Jaebum lifted their hands between them, pressing the object he had retrieved from his robes into Jinyoung’s. It was something heavy inside a small, worn pouch in pale colors, that was all Jinyoung could see in the little light they had. Jaebum closed Jinyoung’s fingers gently around it with both hands before he could study it further. “I’ll give you this for safekeeping, and as a sign of trust. Don’t open it. I’ll definitely come back for it, and when I do, I hope I can give you the answers you seek.”

Jinyoung blinked, confused. The thing inside the pouch was small enough to fit into his palm, heavy, and it had defined edges. Something out of metal, based on its weight and size? Immediately Jinyoung’s mind raced, trying to come up with what it could be.

“You’re giving me another secret to keep without explaining it?” Jinyoung asked, and when Jaebum’s expression revealed that he wasn’t following the conversation, Jinyoung added, “The jade comb. I didn’t realize it immediately, but the bird on it is a phoenix, not a peacock, so either you lied when you said it was your mother’s, or she was of royal background.”

Jaebum’s eyes widened in trepidation. His fingers tightened around Jinyoung’s a little, and he was avoiding Jinyoung’s gaze now, his eyes flicking all over the place. Jinyoung watched his reaction closely, trying to get a read on which one of his guesses would be right, but the only thing that was clear was that Jaebum had  _ not _ expected or wanted Jinyoung to find that piece of information out and call him out over it.

“…I’ll explain at least that, later, if you can resist the temptation to pry at this secret,” Jaebum finally said, nodding towards where he was still holding Jinyoung’s hand with both of his between them, the silk pouch and its contents firmly closed inside. “I’ve been more reckless than I should have since I returned to Hanseong, most of all when it comes to you. Please believe in me a little while longer. I’m already placing more trust in you than I should.”

Jinyoung weighed Jaebum’s voice, studied the sincere expression in his eyes, tried to view the situation objectively. It was hard, when Jaebum’s hands were colder than his now and holding on so firmly, eyes wild, begging Jinyoung to believe him. Something in Jinyoung’s chest caved, a wall that couldn’t hold under the barrage of Im Jaebum. He was trying to be rational, trying to remember the warnings of others, but Jaebum’s words were too heartfelt and Jinyoung had without realizing it given him far too much power over him. Jinyoung hated this secrecy, this uncertainty, but if it was what had to be for Jaebum to come back, then it… Just  _ had _ to be.

Jinyoung sighed with not little dramatic flair, and gave a minute nod. “Alright,” He conceded, but he wouldn’t make this too easy on Jaebum.

With his free hand, Jinyoung jabbed a finger to Jaebum’s chest. “But if you don’t come back, I  _ will _ find out your secrets for myself, and you should know that the weapons of a companion are both their beauty and their information, and I’m not afraid to use either.” Jinyoung stressed his points with further jabs, eyes on fire as he leaned a little closer to intimidate the older man and show that he wasn’t joking.

Despite Jinyoung’s efforts, the words made a slow smile creep onto Jaebum’s face. His eyebrows rose and he took Jinyoung in with a half impressed, half unbelieving expression. “Not just a pretty flower, are you, Jinyoung-ah?”

Jinyoung scoffed. “You already knew I’m not just a pretty face, hyung. Otherwise you wouldn’t have returned after that first visit, now would you?”

Now Jaebum’s smile widened into a grin, and he let go where he had been holding onto Jinyoung’s hand, letting one hand fall while the other rose to Jinyoung’s cheek to brush an unruly lock of hair behind his ear. “I guess I did. I suppose I shouldn’t call you a pretty flower, then?”

Jinyoung smiled too, but it was just on the side of predatory than sweet. They were back to playful, even  _ flirty _ banter, and this was Jinyoung's playing field. “I guess I like the nickname, since it’s yours.”

The words had their desired effect, since Jaebum’s smile turned just a little bashful, as well as proud. “I guess I’ll call you my pretty flower, then.”

“I said the nickname was yours, not I,” Jinyoung retorted, but seeing the fall in Jaebum’s expression and the unsure look emerging in his eyes, Jinyoung added more softly, “But you may.”

Jaebum gave a small smile. “Alright then, my pretty flower.” Jinyoung smiled as well. It made him feel warm and bubbly, when Jaebum said it like that, soft and reverent, although it was chilly in the dark of the night, and the wind was picking up.

Jinyoung clasped his hands in front of him, holding the small pouch and its mysterious contents in both of them, a thumb smoothing over the worn fabric. Their conversation came to a natural still, the moment of goodbye approaching inevitably. Jaebum shuffled on his feet awkwardly.

“I should get going,” Jaebum said predictably with an apologetic smile. “I’ve kept you long enough out in the cold, and you need your beauty sleep.”

“Oh, is that to say my beauty is lacking right now?” Jinyoung quipped with his nose turned up, defaulting to lightening the mood to hide the way his chest ached at the thought of saying goodbye to Jaebum again for an undetermined amount of time.

Jaebum chuckled. “Of course not. It’s refreshing to see your natural beauty like this. You’re pretty in your usual glamour, but it’s the you beneath that is beautiful.”

The words were  _ too much, _ so cheesy and purposefully romantic and clearly Jaebum could play this game as well. Jinyoung dropped his gaze as he faltered for a moment, feeling flustered at how easily Jaebum was saying these sorts of things and wanting to raise his hands to cover his face, but then his senses kicked in.

“I see, so the light is  _ that  _ poor here,” Jinyoung deflected the true praise with self-deprecation and humour, although much more professional would have been to just accept it.

“Maybe show me your makeupless face some time in daylight, and I’ll make an honest judgement.” 

The way the words were a promise of them seeing each other again softened Jinyoung’s heart just enough for him to answer, “I’ll consider it next time”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I keep ending chapters with JJP meeting? I don't know, it's just how the story builds up naturally. And it's not like _every_ chapter has been like that... just most of them........ hahahaa
> 
> I don't know exactly how the scene with Bambam became so dark - it wasn't supposed to be such a dramatic revelation originally that he decided not to sleep around anymore, but I find that I like the darker tone that's taking over this fic in general. I'm not sure how you'd receive it, but I hope it gave you something to think about, and fit the theme and direction of this fic in your opinion.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts ♥


	8. Eighth Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Happy 1 year of Tea Blossom!**  
>  I worked hard to be able to post on this exact day that I published the first chapter of Tea Blossom on :') I hope all of you have had an enjoying story so far, and you like what the story has in store ♥
> 
> Enjoy!

Over the next couple of days, Jinyoung found that it wasn’t as easy as he had thought for others to connect the dots over what had happened the night that Jaebum had come to the back gate of the Red Orchid. However, it was always more obvious for someone involved to see how things tied together into cause and effect, and thus easier for someone who knew about a secret to see how others might figure it out, than for others to actually pick up the breadcrumbs and follow the trail.

The guards that had been at the back gate that night talked, of course. They told of a man, a mercenary or a soldier of some sort, who had come to the back gates and asked for Yien. For some reason, it had not occurred to others to tie this back to Jinyoung and his regular that liked to wear cotton robes. The guards had paid attention to the sword Jaebum had worn and seen him as anything but a customer, so all of that compounded resulted in the gossip around Red Orchid to be that Yien had ties to folk in dangerous business.

Yien, faithful as ever, revealed nothing when he was questioned about it. Jiaer, not knowing the whole picture, confided in Jinyoung that not even  _ he _ could get Yien to talk, and tried to have Jinyoung give it a try. Jinyoung refused, reminding Jiaer that everyone was entitled to their secrets. Jiaer tried to convince Jinyoung otherwise, because this was  _ dangerous _ apparently, Yien associating with some cold-blooded mercenary or whatever the story had blown up to be. Jinyoung insisted that Yien would know what he was doing, and wouldn’t endanger himself or the Red Orchid unnecessarily.

Jinyoung felt like a bit of a hypocrite, talking like this. But everything he was saying to defend Yien he thought to be true for what he knew the situation to be in reality. Instead of Yien, however, the duty of not endangering himself or the Red Orchid rested on Jinyoung, and Yien’s eyes were heavy on him, he knew it. Yien was entitled to be worried. Jinyoung didn’t exactly know what he was doing either, but he  _ was _ doing his best not to expose anyone to undue danger.

However little anyone else seemed to connect the dots, Jinyoung had a feeling Wonpil had a suspicion about Jinyoung's involvement, with how he started openly glaring daggers at Jinyoung whenever they were in the same room and did not have to act civil for the sake of customers. But Wonpil didn't acknowledge Jinyoung's existence other than the glares he threw, and, it seemed, wouldn’t be caught dead speaking about Jinyoung, so if he had his suspicions, they didn’t spread.

The pouch Jaebum had left for his safekeeping that he was not supposed to open weighed heavily on Jinyoung’s mind. He spent several days exploring its shape the best he could through the worn material of the pouch, trying to find out about its contents as much as he could without breaking his word.

Jinyoung knew Jaebum didn’t want him to pry at this secret at all, but Jinyoung’s curiosity wouldn’t allow him to  _ completely _ ignore what might be inside the pouch. He would keep his word about not opening it, but what he  _ could _ find about it otherwise, he would.

However, the shape of the object inside the pouch was not one Jinyoung could recognize just by feel. The thing had mostly a rectangular shape, with one big, flat side, approximately the size of Jinyoung’s palm. That side was  _ mostly _ flat, really, because it wasn’t smooth, but rather had some sort of low engraving etched into it. Through the thick layers of the silk pouch it was difficult, if not impossible, to make out what the engravings exactly were, but Jinyoung could tell they were there. The other parts of the object were mostly smooth, but the opposite side from the flat and engraved one was not as rectangular, but rather smoothed out edges leading up to the middle, where there was some sort of a knob or ornament of some sort.

It wasn’t any type of jewellery, that much Jinyoung could easily tell. Its weight had to hold a meaning for either its use or its value, but Jinyoung was not sure which. He thought it might be some sort of a tool for arts perhaps, or an expensive decoration, but Jinyoung didn’t know an art form that would use this type of heavy things, unless it was for drying flowers, and the elaborate shape of the object seemed unnecessarily complicated for that. It wasn’t just a plain weight either, like those for measuring the weight of things, for the shape was wrong. And other than on its flat side, Jinyoung couldn’t find a stable way to balance the object like a decoration on the shelf, and if it was on its flat side, what was the point of its engravings?

Jinyoung couldn’t help but develop an interest in examining various everyday objects he could find around the Red Orchid, anything that was small enough to fit into his hand and bear any resemblance to the thing in the pouch, really. He picked things up to consider their weight and shape, but there weren’t many things that had even a possibility of being like the mystery object in Jaebum’s silk pouch, but Jinyoung didn’t give up easily. He even volunteered one day to help out in the kitchens just to get his hands on anything that might give him a clue of what Jaebum had entrusted him, but with no success.

Yien rolled his eyes at him when Jinyoung spaced out one day, weighing a simple weight in his hand. The iron weight was the closest thing he had found, but it was still all wrong. And although Jinyoung had never let Yien hold the pouch, taking the matter of Jaebum having entrusted it to Jinyoung specifically seriously, Yien still knew about it, and thus was the only one who could see and understand the pattern in Jinyoung’s behavior.

“It’s admirable how you wish to keep your word,” Yien said, blunt as ever, “But if you spend this much time thinking about it, you should either give up and look inside the pouch, or forget about it. This is fruitless.”

Jinyoung snapped out of his thoughts, putting the weight down with the others, feeling guilty although he hadn’t been doing anything wrong, exactly.

“I know I shouldn’t think about it so much,” Jinyoung admitted with a sigh. “And I want to keep my word, so I won’t look, but I thought I could still figure out what sort of a thing it was, but it matches nothing that I know.”

“Would it be breaking your promise if I were to look at it instead?” Yien offered casually. Jinyoung stiffened, his eyes snapping to Yien as he looked at the guard with a mix of surprise and alarm, taken aback by the offer that was so obviously of questionable morality.

He said as much, but Yien shrugged, not seeming concerned. “I thought to offer anyway, if that would help snap you out of this.”

This prompted Jinyoung to burst into a helpless laugh, overwhelmed by the love and care Yien kept showing to him.

He didn’t voice his thanks, but Jinyoung said he would try to put the contents of the pouch out of his mind. And he did try, making a conscious effort not to go around picking up things he had no reason to go and weigh in his hand, but he couldn’t forget about it either, the pouch weighing heavily in his robes each day, as Jinyoung was unwilling to leave it in his rooms, where someone else might find it.

Jinyoung trusted everyone at the Red Orchid not to steal jewellery, but curiosity might have someone peek inside a weird, obviously worn silk pouch that suddenly appeared in his things. He couldn’t take the risk.

  
  
  


It was out of the ordinary, when a servant from Choi Youngjae’s household arrived, asking to schedule a meeting at the house of the Choi family. It was something Jinyoung had never done for Youngjae before, having always arranged to meet at the Red Orchid, but there was no reason to refuse. House visits were always much more expensive, as Mrs. Kim preferred for security reasons to keep the companions where their safety could be better assured. If it wasn’t a long-time regular like Choi Youngjae, Jinyoung would have refused, but he knew the boy well enough to know he was harmless. On top of that, Youngjae hadn’t had the chance to see him in a while, so Jinyoung found himself missing the young lord a little, as much as he ever allowed himself to miss a client before Jaebum came and went above and beyond all that.

A date and time was arranged, and once it came, Jinyoung got into one of the Red Orchid’s palanquins to be transported to the house of the Choi family. He was accompanied by Yien and a couple of other servants and guards, enough to assure that they could carry Jinyoung and provide him the security fitting of a companion of the Red Orchid. The fully red palanquins were easily recognizable as one of theirs, the knowledge of such a high-class companion arriving at a house typically something the family wanted known. That wasn’t the case with Youngjae, but Jinyoung knew there were appearances to keep if he wanted to keep up the story of Youngjae using the Red Orchid for sex, rather than music and the arts. It was for this purpose that Jinyoung dressed himself differently as well, forgoing the golden orchid hairpin that signified his status and borrowing some of Bambam’s sheer robes to layer on top of two simple peach-colored robes, hoping it would be enough to feed assumptions about what he and Youngjae might be doing in the privacy of his rooms.

Jinyoung’s reputation as a companion who did not engage in sexual favors was well known, so he needed to appear like someone other than himself to keep Youngjae’s cover. Although it was still the most absurd thing in Jinyoung’s opinion that they had to do this dance to avoid knowledge of Youngjae’s study of the arts getting to his family, Jinyoung liked Youngjae well enough to do it.

Everything was just as one might expect as Jinyoung and Yien were led through the halls, the servant opening the door for Jinyoung and Jinyoung stepping inside with his eyes lowered, before bowing. It was only when he straightened from his bow and raised his eyes, the door having closed behind him to leave Yien and the servant outside, that Jinyoung realized that something was horribly wrong.

It was not Choi Youngjae sitting by the desk at the prime spot of the room. This man was older, a similar age to Ok Taecyeon, Jinyoung would guess, and he had a prominent jaw and a high forehead. Although there was little resemblance, it did not take much to guess that this was Choi Siwon, the firstborn of the Choi family, Youngjae’s military-minded no-nonsense older brother.

Jinyoung hesitated by the door as the realization settled in, and his brain kicked into overdrive as he understood that he was in a situation that was possibly dangerous, or at the very least hostile. The friendly smile on his face froze and cracked, and as he remained by the door a moment more than expected, Choi Siwon’s eyes rose from where he had been arranging a pile of silk-wrapped letters and his set of brushes to look busy. He fixed Jinyoung down with a piercing gaze.

“Good day,” The man greeted, his eyes hard and calculating. “I understand this is a surprise, but please, have a seat.”

“Good day, my lord,” Jinyoung answered politely but with a clipped voice, dropping the smile and clasping his hands in front of himself, remaining in perfect posture. “This is most unusual, and I must tell you that the status of a regular of a Red Orchid’s companion is  _ not _ extended to others in their family, my lord.” Saying the words while standing this close to the door, Yien  _ must _ hear him, Jinyoung hoped firmly. And if he got Yien to know that the situation was all wrong, he was a bit more safe.

“Is that so,” Choi Siwon said in an utterly unremorseful tone. “Well, I’ll make sure you are properly compensated, and won’t even have to do any of the things you usually do,”  _ Ugh, _ Jinyoung barely repressed the shudder of disgust at just the  _ thought _ of doing what Choi Siwon  _ thought _ he and Youngjae did at their appointments. “But please, sit down. I’d like to talk.”

“We charge for that too, my lord,” Jinyoung added, but he could read between the lines well enough, and moved to sit in the assigned seat with grace. Choi Siwon was being pleasant for now, and although he had transgressed by having Jinyoung brought here under false pretenses, acting rashly and making a scene at this point would possibly make him openly hostile. Jinyoung dealt with dangerous people in his job on a regular basis. Handling Choi Siwon so that Jinyoung could leave here without making an enemy out of him was in both Jinyoung’s and Red Orchid’s best interests.

“I see,” Choi Siwon answered, the edge of his mouth lifting in a half smile. “I can appreciate a ruthless business.”

“We live to serve, my lord,” Jinyoung answered with a nod, straightening out his robes before lifting his jaw up again, meeting Choi Siwon’s stare head on.

“So, you’re the companion my younger brother sees,” Choi Siwon begun, and Jinyoung politely answered with a confirmation. He would tread carefully with his answers, but this, at least, was one he could easily give. “I see. You’re a pretty thing, I guess I can understand the appeal.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Jinyoung answered courteously, choosing not to elaborate any more. Having Choi Siwon believe Youngjae’s cover for visiting the Red Orchid was preferable, so this was still safe ground, as well.

“It’s just that… We know each other’s schedules and interactions quite well here in our family,” Choi Siwon begun, his voice far too casual and light for this to bode any good. “And thus I’m well aware of who my brother gets in contact with. I know everyone in his life, with the exception of you, before today.”

Jinyoung was somewhat aware of how constricting Youngjae’s life was, but Choi Siwon was truly confirming it – that his family were watching almost all of his interactions with others wasn’t that surprising, but still disappointing. Jinyoung felt bad for Youngjae.

Choi Siwon continued, “So. Imagine my surprise, when one of my sources at the palace tells me my dear little brother has been asking around about items with royal symbols ending up outside the palace. Specifically about a jade comb featuring the likeness of a phoenix.”

Jinyoung’s heart dropped through his stomach.

Several things went through his mind, fear the heftiest of them. Youngjae probably hadn’t meant ill, looking into the phoenix comb, but he  _ had, _ instead of dropping the whole subject like Jinyoung had hoped he would after the reprimand the companion had given him. And apparently, Choi Siwon had enough ties within the palace that he had found out about Youngjae asking around. Choi Siwon also clearly possessed enough certainty about who Youngjae was in contact with that he would go as far as to suspect the companion he went to see at the Red Orchid as the origin of these ideas.

Choi Siwon did not know that Youngjae saw several companions at the Red Orchid. However, that hardly mattered in this situation, since Jinyoung was the one Youngjae saw the most and coincidentally and unfortunately, Jinyoung was also the culprit that Choi Siwon wanted, the one whom Youngjae had seen to possess a jade comb with the engraving of a phoenix. Luck was not on Jinyoung’s side.

Jinyoung was unsure in how much danger he was in, other than that he  _ was, _ most certainly. The jade comb and the other secret Jaebum had entrusted him were tugged inside Jinyoung’s opaque robes, hidden from the eye, but they were  _ here _ with him, and Jinyoung did not know what the repercussions were should he be caught with either of them.

Seeing as the circumstances were dire and that Choi Siwon already knew too much for Jinyoung’s comfort, the most important thing for Jinyoung now was to  _ not reveal anything more. _

And that started by reacting as little as possible to the information Choi Siwon was dangling in front of him, hoping to get any sort of confirmation for whatever he may suspect. So Jinyoung simply blinked, keeping his expression the same, hoping none of his panic had shown in the slightest flinch or a flash in his eyes. To hide the truth, Jinyoung acted like he didn’t know what Choi Siwon was talking about, and was waiting for the lord to elaborate.

Jinyoung was unsure if Choi Siwon bought it, but at least he didn’t strike, continuing instead on laying this elaborate trap he had Jinyoung already swimming in, moments from being caught.

“Now, considering that I know all but one of the people Youngjae  _ is _ in contact with, and I know with quite high certainty that none of them would possess such a thing nor certainly flaunt it in any situation where my younger brother would see it, this leads me to you.” Choi Siwon’s eyes were sharp and calculating. He had the advantage of years and an education and career in military and politics, not of a man easily fooled. “So, tell me, companion, do you have any idea why Youngjae would ask after such a thing?”

Jinyoung wanted to leave, but to insist to go right after Choi Siwon had brought up the phoenix comb would do nothing but confirm his suspicions that Jinyoung had it.

Jinyoung blinked dumbly again for good measure, keeping his hands unmoving although they were sweating, all of his senses on high alert. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I don’t. We don’t often discuss jewellery with Youngjae-ssi.”

Choi Siwon propped an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm, an act of nonchalance. He was playing with Jinyoung, and Jinyoung knew that, but if there was to be any hope of getting out of this situation, Jinyoung had to play him too. The game had room for two, but Choi SIwon had the advantage, since he had set the board with the odds stacked for himself. What Jinyoung had in his favor, however, was that it was likely that the lord underestimated him due to not knowing much about companions, and furthermore, not knowing  _ Jinyoung _ at all. Jinyoung had to exploit that.

“Is that so. However, I don’t believe my little brother would ask after such a specific thing without encountering it somewhere unexpected. He doesn’t quite have the imagination.” Choi Siwon laughed like it was a joke. Jinyoung felt offended for Youngjae’s sake, but he took care not to let it show. Instead, Jinyoung pulled on a dangerously sweet smile, keeping his eyes wide to convey sincerity.

“Oh, I don’t know, my lord. I’ve learned Youngjae-ssi has  _ plenty _ of imagination,” Jinyoung countered, knowingly choosing the words to imply in just what ways the companion had experienced said imagination. He was planning to play on Choi Siwon’s assumptions about their activities as much as he could.

Choi Siwon blinked in surprise a couple times, Jinyoung’s answer obviously not being what he had expected, but he was quick to recover, straightening his posture as his expression grew more serious again.

“Nevertheless, I expect him to have seen it somewhere to ask such specific questions. And the only reasonable place for him having done so is with you.”

The fact that Choi Siwon’s arguments were starting to run in a circle was a good sign for Jinyoung. It meant that the man likely had no more ammunition, and was waiting for Jinyoung to make a mistake. That was not in Jinyoung’s intentions – instead, he sought to deliver a final blow with better arguments.

“My lord, I don’t know what to tell you. Naturally every companion owns plenty of jewellery and even combs in jade. Maybe Youngjae-ssi saw something that reminded him of a phoenix at the Red Orchid, I don’t know. But the Red Orchid and its employees are hardly the type of folk to have ties to the royal family. Isn’t it more likely that Youngjae-ssi saw it somewhere else, or that the question was hypothetical?”

Annoyance flickered over Choi Siwon’s stoic features as he was left grasping for straws. When he didn’t immediately come up with a counter argument, Jinyoung figured that this was his chance to try to conclude this dangerous line of conversation.

“Was there anything else, my lord? Although you aren’t my regular or even Red Orchid’s customer, I’ve indulged you with this conversation, but if that is all, my lord, I would take my leave.”

Jinyoung’s request was polite, and not too abrupt. He had answered Choi Siwon’s line of questioning, so it did not look like he was suspiciously avoiding the topic. It wasn’t suspicious to not particularly like being tricked into coming here and being interrogated, which was why it was reasonable for the companion to want to leave. Jinyoung had carefully thought out his response so that it wouldn’t be incriminating. The quicker he could get out of this situation, the less chances there would be to make a mistake and give Choi Siwon reason to suspect him further.

“No, I think that will be all,” Choi Siwon acquiesced, letting Jinyoung get as far as to stand up and start making his way to the door before he continued, “Of course, during these uncertain times, when people are concerned about bloodlines and keeping the order of succession, ones with ties to the royal family are kept close tabs on. Especially ones that could challenge it. Those are in great risk of being eliminated by those who seek to preserve that order.”

Jinyoung was unsure if Choi Siwon’s words were a warning or a threat, or perhaps both. He paused to think before turning enough towards the man by the table to answer solemnly. “Naturally, the Crown Prince’s safe ascension is what the Kingdom hopes for, after all. Some will go far to ensure it.”

Jinyoung knew perfectly well that the Choi family sided with the Yang family and thus were more than likely to want to disrupt the ascension than ensure it. However, Jinyoung had no intentions of revealing just how much he knew of the Choi family’s political orientation. That was a prized piece of information that was best kept up his sleeve until he truly needed it.

Choi Siwon’s eyes were difficult to read, their gaze piercing Jinyoung with uncomfortable intensity. “It would be naive to think it would be in everyone’s hopes. There are a lot of dangerous people out there, hoping to benefit from uncertainty.”

Jinyoung was far from naive, but that was hardly the point. It was saying a lot that Choi Siwon would openly talk to Jinyoung about the topic of treasonous intent, although he had refrained from referring in any way to himself or his family, whom Jinyoung knew were exactly those type of “dangerous people”. It was obvious that Choi Siwon saw Jinyoung as no threat, but furthermore, his words revealed that what he was seeking from Jinyoung was a tool against the Crown Prince.

However, in reality it wasn’t  _ Jinyoung _ that Choi Siwon was looking for. The two pouches with the phoenix jade comb and the mystery item had never felt heavier against Jinyoung’s chest. It was  _ Jaebum _ that Choi Siwon wanted. And with how interested Choi Siwon was in the phoenix comb, it seemed like there was reason to believe that its owner could have claim enough to the throne to disturb the order of succession.

So either Jaebum had lied about the origin of the comb, or he  _ was _ a royal of some sort, a brother or a cousin to the Crown Prince, close enough that he could be supported by powerful noble families to raise into power instead, should they play their cards right.

Jinyoung was not sure which one was worse. He was almost hoping for the former, because the latter left so many things unexplained, starting from how Jaebum had come to be a mercenary and a traveler instead of a prince in the court, like he should have been by birthright, if that was the truth.

Be as it may, Jinyoung would not find out more from Choi Siwon, and staying for longer only posed the risk of letting something slip that would affirm that Jinyoung had what Choi Siwon was looking for. Before the silence before his answer could grow too long, Jinyoung nodded. “Then, hopefully the topic of ascension shall not arise for many years and the King may live long and in good health.”

“May the King live long and in good health,” Choi Siwon repeated mechanically, like he had to in order to keep up the facade of a law-abiding citizen. Jinyoung bowed and excused himself, intent on getting out of the house as soon as he could.

Yien was just outside the room, standing there with the servant that had brought them here, only his eyes and the white of his knuckles on the grip of his sword betraying that he was worried for Jinyoung’s safety. Without a word, Jinyoung started towards the entrance, making the servant scramble to get in front of him and see them out.

Once they had bid farewell to the servant and were making their way to the palanquin Jinyoung had arrived in, Jinyoung spoke, voice pitched low so that no one could overhear them. “How much of it did you hear?”

“Not all,” Yien answered, matching his tone, “But enough.”

“Shit. Shit shit shit,” Jinyoung cursed silently, but not at Yien – at the situation as a whole.

The other guards and servants were waiting for them by the palanquin, not hiding their surprise that Jinyoung and Yien had arrived back so soon well. Thankfully they hadn’t left to spend the time waiting elsewhere, or Jinyoung would have walked the whole way back in these clothes, because he was  _ not _ staying in this house a moment longer.

It was only when Jinyoung had gotten into his palanquin and Yien had closed its flap behind him that Jinyoung started feeling safe again. The palanquin was lifted into the air as Yien began to lead them back to the Red Orchid, the familiar swing of the stride giving Jinyoung some sense of calm, although his mind was in turmoil.

Yien didn’t say a word on the way, and neither did Jinyoung. It was not safe to talk on the streets, where anyone might overhear. Inside the red palanquin, Jinyoung was alone with his thoughts, iterating over and over again every word that Choi Siwon had said to him, making sure he remembered wording and nuance as perfectly as he could. There were often more answers between lines, but Jinyoung could find no more than he already had. Going the conversation over in his head numerous time only served to make him more insecure about the conclusions he had drawn, until Jinyoung felt like he could be certain of nothing at all, words turning into porridge in his head as he overworked them. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the palanquin was set down again, and Yien was opening the flap to let him out.

The main gate was the only one where the palanquin could fit through, and although Jinyoung could easily have been taken to the back door where he could step out of the palanquin and walk the last couple of steps into the shelter of the walls of the Red Orchid, it was a rule that whenever the companions had to get off and on to a palanquin at the Red Orchid, they would do so inside the main gate. This was due to the fact that a companion getting in or out of the palanquin was the likeliest chance for people to see a companion without paying, and thus especially during evening hours when it was more common for companions to leave to host dinners or other events, there were always people lingering within the gates of the Red Orchid, hoping to catch a glance of the companions for free. If they used the back door regularly, that would be where those people would crowd instead, and that was not an outcome anyone wanted. Companions going through the front door was also a way to market the Red Orchid, and it swayed hesitating potential customers to making the decision to invest on time inside the tea house. 

Jinyoung had left early enough that there had been no onlookers. It was still fairly early in the day, with the sun just having reached its peak, but by now there were already some potential customers loitering in the yard, and while they weren’t many, for the few that were there, it was their lucky day.

Jinyoung stepped out of the palanquin with grace, keeping his eyes to the front and paying no attention to the handful of people watching on. There were shouts and murmurs and the general sounds of excitement that were likely to end in the profit of the Red Orchid, even though no matter how they asked, Jinyoung would not be their companion today, or probably ever, if their initial hesitation on spending money on companions was saying anything about their financial situations.

The guards at the main doors opened them for him without prompting, and Jinyoung stepped inside the Red Orchid with the confidence of someone who knew he belonged, Yien hot on his heels. Heechul was manning the doors, and while he could write what Jinyoung wanted into the books, Jinyoung wanted more than a footnote.

Jinyoung wanted to make a statement.

And so he strode through the hallway into the lounge and through it straight to the stairs that took to the balcony and Mrs. Kim’s room behind it, ignoring the loud reaction he gathered mostly from the other companions for the outfit he was wearing – modest and boring if it were anyone else, but borderline obscene because it was Jinyoung, the crown jewel of the Red Orchid, the proud prude of their debauched tea house.

It was also unusual that the guard of a companion would so openly accompany them within the walls of the Red Orchid, but in this situation Jinyoung couldn’t blame Yien at all. After all, they had both gone through an experience that had left them shaken, so Jinyoung thought it was natural for Yien to not want to let the one he guarded out of his sights. And Yien would have lost Jinyoung from his sight had he stopped to climb up to the corridors the guards usually traversed, because Jinyoung had not halted to wait for him to do so.

Jinyoung only stopped when he came to the door of Mrs. Kim’s room, and that was just for the benefit of the guard in a servant’s guise standing next to it, so that she could open the door and announce Jinyoung before Jinyoung did it himself.

Mrs. Kim’s room was the most well-decorated and best situated room on the second floor of the house, the prime spot for the owner of the tea house. If the sun shone, it was always bright in the room, but the room hardly ever got too hot, even in the summer. It was not a room to serve customers in, but for doing business. Among other things, it was the place where new regulars came to discuss their prospects and figure out with Mrs. Kim if they were worthy of one of the best companions the Red Orchid had to offer, or not. It was rarely that this process was avoided by the companions making exceptions, like Jinyoung had with Jaebum, or like Bambam had done that one time, enticing Daehyun’s regular when the chance had arrived just to prove that he could. It was also the room where Mrs. Kim handled the financial affairs of the tea house, her being the only one who knew the combination to the safe behind the artfully painted folding screen, a beautiful spring landscape depicted on it.

Mrs. Kim looked up from the paper she was reading at Jinyoung and Yien entering, greeting them with a nod. She folded gently away the letter she had been reading to pay them her full attention, placing it safely under the brass seal of the Red Orchid.

“Jinyoungie, Yien. This is unusual,” Mrs. Kim stated, smoothing her wrinkled hands over the fine wood of her writing desk. Her observant eyes took in the whole scene that Jinyoung and Yien made, and Jinyoung just knew that with ‘unusual’ she wasn’t referring to his form of dress, but rather that the both of them would come to see her like this, suddenly and unannounced, other than by the door.

“Omoni”, “Omonim”, they greeted her almost simultaneously, bowing politely, Yien deeper than Jinyoung.

Greetings out of the way, Jinyoung went straight to business. “Omoni. I came back just now from the Choi house, where I was tricked to go under the pretense of my regular, Choi Youngjae, requesting a meeting there. I had no reason to suspect any trouble as it was l Youngjae’s servant who had come to arrange the meeting, but it was not Choi Youngjae who met me there, but rather his older brother, Choi Siwon.”

Jinyoung paused, collecting his thoughts so that he could express what had happened next without revealing the parts he wanted to keep to himself. Mrs. Kim wasn’t rushing him, her expression patient and open, waiting for him to finish.

Jinyoung chose his words carefully. “Choi Siwon did not outright state it, but he did strongly imply that he would wish to use me for a plot involving treason. He was quite insistent, and I fear he might want to contact me again for these reasons, and as I do not wish to have any part in his plans, I want nothing to do with him.”

They were words not lightly said, for it was no light matter to speak of treason. However, they were the truth, although not the whole truth.

Mrs. Kim’s eyebrows furrowed, the wrinkles on her face becoming much more prominent when she frowned than in her usual serene expression. Jinyoung would not want to worry her like this, but when it came to something this grave, there was no other choice. Hiding this from Mrs. Kim posed a danger to not only Jinyoung, but others at the Red Orchid as well.

This was also the first thing Mrs. Kim was concerned about. “Do you think he will try it with someone else, not being successful with you?” It was brushing on the topic Jinyoung was trying to avoid – the reason why he knew no one else than him would do in Choi Siwon’s eyes, but that did not mean that he might not go through someone else in an attempt to get to Jinyoung.

“He might try to get to me by using someone else as an intermediary. I think he wanted me specifically, due to my previous association with their family, and perhaps my reputation,” Jinyoung answered, although he knew the latter not to be precisely true. Choi Siwon possibly didn’t know about his status as the Crown Jewel of the Red Orchid, since Jinyoung was widely known not to engage in carnal acts at any price, and those carnal acts were the reason Youngjae was allowed to see him. Jinyoung had also never given him his name, and he hoped fervently Choi Siwon had not heard it from anywhere else either.

“I see,” Mrs. Kim said, eyes distant as she weighed Jinyoung’s words and considered their implications on the greater picture. “He will be warned about to everyone, but a lord like him is unlikely to come straight to us anyway, so it might be difficult to gauge when someone is working for him or not.” Mrs. Kim sighed. “These are difficult times, so everyone is already on the edge. It should not require too much to get everyone to be more careful and on the lookout for any signs pointing to the Choi family.”

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung apologized, although it wasn’t his fault specifically that this threat had presented itself, but he disliked being a bother for the people he had lived and worked with for years, many he considered as the family he never had. “It’s extra stress and more scrutiny on us than we would have liked.”

Mrs. Kim waved a hand to dismiss Jinyoung’s apology, eyes sincere although they were still flicking between far away and the present, already planning how to manage the situation. “Something like this was bound to happen sooner than later. It’s so difficult to remain politically neutral, but if we must fight to do so, we will.” She paused for a moment, before fixing eyes on Jinyoung again, tilting her head to one side. “Will you keep seeing Choi Youngjae?”

Jinyoung knew he had to weigh his answer carefully. On one hand, he didn’t think Youngjae was a danger to him, knowing how opposed he was to his family in general, but on the other, there was no saying if the young lord could remain opposed when push came to shove. “He’s innocent in what happened today, other than by association, and I don’t blame him for his brother. I won’t go to their house, but if he comes by, like he always has so far, I will see him. But the one at the door has to know that it is actually him, and not someone claiming to be him.”

Mrs. Kim deliberated for a moment, but she nodded, deep in thought. “Alright, I’ll see to that too.” She pulled a smile on her face, a shallow one, but encouraging nonetheless. “Go on then, change out of those clothes. You look uncomfortable.”

Jinyoung matched her smile and started to turn, but realized his opportunity and stopped, pulling on an obviously fake affronted look. Jinyoung pushed out his bottom lip in a pout that was probably too childish for a man of his age and a companion of his stature, but Mrs. Kim so easily made him feel like he was still a kid and allowed these shows of emotion. “Omoni, are you saying I don’t look good?” Jinyoung whined, purposefully overacting. Beside but a step behind him, Yien made an unconvincing attempt at hiding a snort.

“You always do,” Mrs. Kim assured him, indulging him with the seemingly endless patience of the parent that she was, regardless that she hadn’t born him. “But they’re not you.”

The pout fell away in a blink and Jinyoung flashed her a wide, genuine smile, eyes crinkling.

“Yien,” She called out when they were almost out the door. Yien spun on his foot in his hurry to turn back to her and give her the attention that she commanded, her voice grave. “Keep a close eye on him.”

“I will, Omonim,” Yien responded, speaking the words more like he was saying an oath.

  
  
  


Jinyoung was calmer exiting Mrs. Kim’s room as he was when he entered, but nevertheless, he had zero intentions of remaining in the lounge to be ogled by both customers and companions alike. However, having shaken the worst of the adrenaline from the encounter with Choi Siwon, Jinyoung felt like a good sport, so instead of leaving straight away for his room to change, he stepped up to the lounge balcony, spreading his arms with a swish of the topmost two sheer robes and not a little melodrama.

“Feast your eyes on this sight, for it’s not something you’ll get to see ever again,” Jinyoung boomed with a loud voice, gaining the attention of even those few that weren’t already enraptured. He turned a little from side to side with his arms spread, giving everyone a moment to take the sight in, before he lowered himself into a theatrical bow. “And that concludes the show. Enjoy your day, my lords and ladies.”

Daehyun was the one who started wolf-whistling, and there were quite a few hollers after him as Jinyoung turned to leave and make his way to his room. Jinyoung knew that the whole tea house would talk about this event for  _ days, _ which, perhaps, was the least Jinyoung could do to spare Yien from the nightly encounter gossip, seeing as it was Jinyoung who was at fault for that anyway.

Through the corridors, Yien remained a step behind him, and Jinyoung knew the guard would not stop hovering before they went somewhere they could speak without fear of being overheard. Which suited Jinyoung just fine, because he wanted to change into something more typical for him, and the privacy of his room was the perfect place to have the talk the both of them needed.

Yien closed the door to Jinyoung’s room behind them with care, and Jinyoung was already disrobing the flashy, sheer robes Bambam had loaned him. They were beautiful and well made, delicately colored and embroidered, but the style was just not Jinyoung at all.

The silence didn’t last long, as Yien finally had the chance to open the floodgates to everything he wanted to say.

“I feel like I failed you today, not being able to do anything when you warned me that it wasn’t Choi Youngjae in the room after all,” Yien said, and when Jinyoung turned to look at him he could see that the guard was truly bothered by this, eyes downcast and brows furrowed as he continued, “I couldn’t leave my spot to warn others, as that would have left you alone, and I couldn’t storm the room carelessly as I had no idea how many guards that guy had posted, other than that were several. I could do nothing without exposing you to potentially more danger, but stand there and listen and wait.”

Jinyoung ached for his friend, not having realized how helpless Yien had felt in the situation, and not wanting his friend to feel like he had disappointed him. “You couldn’t have known that we would be tricked like we were, and it’s not your fault.”

Yien’s frown deepened and he shook his head. “I couldn’t have, but I wasn’t prepared for it either. I was careless, letting my guard down that much as we only expected it to be Choi Youngjae, but I never should have let you get into danger like that.”

Jinyoung dropped the sheer robes carelessly instead of folding them, walking up to Yien to gently cup his face with two hands, tilting the guard’s face up to look at him so that he could see the sincerity in Jinyoung’s eyes. “It’s okay, you never left me in danger, and you did the right thing by not storming in without a panic cue and letting me handle the situation. I had no doubts you would keep me safe, Yien-ge. I don’t blame you for any of it, and you haven’t failed me or disappointed me at all.”

“That does not erase the fact that you were in danger, and I couldn’t prevent it or help you.”

Yien’s dark eyes were sorrowful, and Jinyoung’s heart cracked a little, knowing that there was nothing he could say to make Yien not blame himself for the events of the day. Yien took great pride in his job and went above and beyond for the safety and comfort of Jinyoung, kicking himself for any perceived lack. Jinyoung smoothed both thumbs on the sides of Yien’s cheeks, giving him a sad smile.

“You did the best anyone could do. There was no reason to suspect that there would be a trap.” Jinyoung reassured Yien before letting go of his face, backing off, but not without tapping a long finger on the tip of Yien’s nose in an attempt at lightening the mood. “It’s okay.”

Yien didn’t look convinced, but Jinyoung hadn’t expected anything else. The guard didn’t say anything more for a while, so Jinyoung thought they had settled the matter, and he returned to where he had discarded the sheer robes to fold them.

“You will keep being in danger as long as you keep holding onto his things,” Yien said suddenly, tone solemn. Jinyoung looked up in surprise, caught off-guard by this turn of the conversation.

“Well, I would give them back to him if I could, but I can’t. I have no idea how to find him,” Jinyoung answered. There was no need to name who they were talking about.

“You should get rid of them,” Yien prompted.

“I can’t,” Jinyoung threw Yien an affronted look. “What if they’re really keepsakes of his family? And what if they fall into the wrong hands? Clearly at least Choi Siwon thinks some value to them that could be used against the current order of things.”

“At least don’t carry them on your body!” Yien exclaimed, getting worked up by the topic. “What if he had demanded to search you and would have found them on you? Bury them here in the gardens or something!”

Yien had a point, so Jinyoung remained silent, finishing the folding before getting up and putting the robes where they would be taken to laundry before being returned to Bambam. Not that they needed much washing, considering Jinyoung had worn them for such a short while and only sat in the palanquin and on the seating pillow at the house of the Choi family.

“I don’t think I will be going outside of the Red Orchid for a while anyway,” Jinyoung finally said. “Within these walls, carrying them with me poses no risk.”

Yien considered this, and nodded, conceding to Jinyoung’s point. “In case that he doesn’t return before you have to step outside again, I would prepare a place to store them in the ground.”

It was only fair that Jinyoung would give a concession as well, so he agreed. After all, Yien’s point was valid, but with how it seemed that it would not be safe for Jinyoung to go outside the walls for a while, he didn’t think Yien’s measure would become necessary. Nevertheless, he knew Yien liked to be prepared, so Jinyoung allowed it. It would give the guard something to do, and a peace of mind.

That night, Yien buried a small lidded jar into the gardens, hidden in the peonies outside of Jinyoung’s tea room. He had to do it under the cover of the night, without anyone noticing, or there would be no sense in doing it in the first place.

The following morning, right at dawn, the tea house was full of commotion. Jinyoung woke up disoriented, picking up even in his sleep the worried tones of voices and the quickened steps in the halls. Jinyoung pulled on just one additional colored silk robe before stepping into the halls, wanting to find out what was wrong.

The first person he ran into was Wonpil. Instead of avoiding Jinyoung, like he had for days, the musician met his eyes straightforwardly, expression lost and pained as he relayed Jinyoung the news.

The 22nd ruler of Joseon, King Joseon had passed just before dawn. His son, the Crown Prince, had ascended the throne, but because he was too young to rule, his great-grandmother, Queen Dowager Jeongsun would rule until he was of age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, cliffhanger of sorts. The death of the King has been an event that I've contemplated a lot on how to time, because it obviously changes things. But the time came now! And next chapter we will witness the type of fallout that happens!
> 
> I've been completely blindsided by how important Mark/Yien has become in this story, but I find that I really enjoy depicting the dynamics of a guard and the person they're guarding without any underlying romantic or sexual tension. I adore Mark/Yien's character so much in this. He's the best badass.
> 
> This chapter especially was full of Markjin's dynamics, which I really enjoy. And the amped danger on Jinyoung, now that there are eyes on him... It's delicious. Can't wait to solve this all.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a comment and let me know, if you have the time! ♥ And if you want to follow my general GOT7 fangirling and writing process, follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/seitsemannen)!


	9. Ninth Petal

The day of the King’s passing, the Red Orchid was closed, gates bolted and additional guards posted at each door. Any passerby or visitor who came to the doors got told that in mourning of the 22nd King and as a sign of respect for the new King, the tea house would not be serving any guests that day, and that they should come back again the next day. However, the real reason for the closed gates was the safety of the Red Orchid and its occupants, hoping with the absence of influential customers to give no reason for anyone to storm the tea house and cause any harm.

It was a tense day, and in an attempt to keep everyone busy, a spring cleaning of sorts was arranged. Everyone who wasn’t on guard duty was cleaning, washing, doing gardening and laundry, speaking in hushed voices while outdoors to not have anyone overhear, and continuing in the same low tones indoors simply out of the stress everyone was feeling.

The flipside of keeping the doors of the Red Orchid closed was that it also cut off all flow of information, and thus, its occupants were left in the dark about what was going out outside of its walls. What they could tell was that at least four or five houses burned during the first day, which meant that at least  _ some _ moves were made, and as the fires weren’t wide spread, their purpose was likely to warn, intimidate or hide evidence. This, of course, was assuming it was no coincidence, but such a thing was far too unlikely with both the timing and the amount of separate fires in a single day.

At least no one tried to forcefully enter the Red Orchid, so Jinyoung counted them lucky. The first thing he had done that morning was to put himself in the team that helped with the gardening, and hidden the phoenix comb and the mystery item in their silk pouches into the pot that Yien had buried into the peonies in the garden the night before, in case someone would come for him. Jinyoung kept himself in the team that did gardening, making sure to work the upper layer of dirt of the whole arrangement of peonies so that no spot would look more stirred than another, giving no reason for anyone to think anything was off about the flowers. Despite that, Jinyoung kept looking over his shoulder the whole day, expecting an attack or an investigation or  _ something, _ but thankfully nothing of the sort happened, at least to them.

The only good thing that came out of that fateful day was that it brought Jinyoung and Wonpil back in talking terms. Wonpil had volunteered to work with Jinyoung in the gardens, raking the grass and tending to the various flora they had. They hadn’t been talking much, but even just the accepting mutual presence was enough to make Jinyoung feel hopeful that Wonpil had gotten over the worst upset towards him in the face of a much greater adversity.

The next day the Red Orchid opened its doors again, and information started trickling in.

There had been no coup, at least yet, but it was obvious that there was unrest around, groups of warriors going around robbing and burning and even killing. Unfortunately, the palace had failed so far to send enough troops to counter the rebels, causing disgruntlement in those affected or afraid of being targeted by the raids in the future. That was all they gathered on the first day, all of their appointments only with members of not as affluent noble families, so there was only so much that they could know with this short a period for information to travel. There were two cancellations from more powerful families, and them avoiding going to appointments, even if it was at the Red Orchid, which was known for its neutrality and safety, was a clear signal that the important court families were on their toes, not wanting to give a chance for one of their own being assaulted.

Jinyoung had no appointments, so Yien had convinced him to spend the day getting sword training with Jiaer. After the episode at the Choi house, Yien had grown more worried about Jinyoung’s safety, enough to want the companion to have basic training in fighting against someone with a sword. Jinyoung had more training in martial arts than many of the other companions, but it was mostly in wrestling, as that was one of his and Jiaer’s favorite activities and a good way to both spend energy and maintain a healthy body. Wrestling was useful, Yien had said, but if the other person had a weapon, the first step was getting close enough to take that out of the play, before there would be any use of the grappling holds Jinyoung knew.

Yien would have taught Jinyoung himself, probably, but he had been assigned into additional guard duty that day. In any case, Jinyoung’s guard insisted that Jiaer was the better swordsman out of the two of them, in spite of the fact that everyone knew that even though Jiaer was the most skillful out of all the guards with a blade, Yien was still the better fighter, although he let Jiaer best him occasionally just to try and make Jiaer feel better. It didn’t work, as knowing that Yien was not trying his hardest of course only served to make Jiaer angry, the younger guard still so blind to the helpless love that Yien looked at him with, and claiming that Yien only pitied him and thought him unworthy of his full effort whenever he went easy on him.

Jiaer had him learn basics of sword fighting with wooden training swords at first. It wasn’t hard, and with Jiaer going easy enough on him, Jinyoung could hold his ground. However, after a morning of that with no end in sight, Jinyoung was starting to get frustrated. They were in a secluded training ground in side of the yard, behind a storage building, walled off from the garden sections meant for aesthetic pleasure. The sun shone directly into the yard, making the sandy ground reflect the heat, and Jinyoung had already sweat through the rough cotton robes he only wore for when he exercised, silk a material far too expensive and fragile for wrestling and the sort. Sword fighting would have allowed for silk, but considering how much Jinyoung was sweating, cotton was better.

Jinyoung’s palms were aching, starting to develop calluses where they were unfamiliar with the grip of a sword, but Jinyoung’s grip held steady as he countered Jiaer’s moves the best he could, carefully reflecting on Jackson’s previous lesson about directing the blade away from his centerline to not give his opponent a chance to lunge and prick him. Sweat was dripping down Jinyoung’s hairline and neck to the center of his chest, partly exposed where his robes had failed to keep closed as he performed the moves Jiaer taught him.

Eventually Jiaer got too much into it, and the sword was knocked out of Jinyoung’s hands once more, making his fingers numb for a moment with the force of the blow.

Jinyoung let out an exasperated shout, cradling his fingers to his chest and eyeing Jiaer and the disarmed weapon with irritation, finally having had enough for his frustration to well over. “What’s the point of me going this far to learn sword fighting? It isn’t like I can start carrying a sword around, so the only case I’d have one to fight with is if I’ve already snatched it from someone else.”

Jiaer propped the tip of his wooden sword to the ground, leaning on it, sweating and slightly short of breath, but not truly exhausted, too used to this type of exercise. He had taken his top off earlier, sweat glistening on his defined muscles as he posed, satisfied with himself. Jiaer always lit up when he could exert his energy in something physical, a glow to his whole being that made him all the more handsome, although he  _ always _ was, no matter how he complained about being ugly with his short legs and big head, which was plain untrue. But the thing Jiaer was unabashedly proud of were his muscles – he had impressive muscles even for a guard, choosing to train with weights although that was not necessary for the agility, endurance and fighting skills that were the requirements for what the guards did.

The guard pursed his lips, considering Jinyoung’s words. “Hmm, I guess you have a point,” He admitted. “It’d be weird for a companion to carry a sword around.”

Jiaer walked over to the disarmed wooden sword, weighing it in his hands for a moment before going to put it away in a box of training weapons kept in the yard. “I guess more useful would be then to train how to use your body and tools that you’d typically have at your disposal to disarm a sword.” Jiaer shrugged. “But it’s no harm to still know sword fighting basics, you’ll understand better how the other person is likely to use the sword and the principles of fighting it.”

Jinyoung answered with a terse nod, focused on leveling out his breathing now that his fingers mostly stopped hurting, leaning down with his hands on his knees.

They practiced for a while stealing a sword from the hilt – they had to use Jiaer’s actual sword for this, because the training swords had no hilts and the weight would be far too different too, Jiaer argued. It was tricky to get down the right angle to pull the sword out from another persons hilt, but it was undeniably an useful technique – Jiaer also taught him a slashing move that continued right after from pulling the sword out of the other person’s hilt, but it was difficult to get right, because Jinyoung had to practice getting enough momentum in the spin, but he had to take care not to actually hit Jiaer with his sword, even with Jiaer jumping out of the way.

They missed the midday meal while practicing, but Yien was both dutiful towards Jinyoung and smitten enough with Jiaer to carry a light meal out for the both of them, although he had to return to guard duty right after. That, however, was probably a good thing, considering how Yien absolutely couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Jiaer’s bare, sweaty upper body, so much that it became borderline painful for Jinyoung to watch.

By the time Yien had come with their lunch, Jinyoung and Jiaer had been both drenched in sweat, the sun bearing hard down on them, and the food and water had been more than welcome with how they had run their bodies to the ground with practice. The two of them sat together in the shade, leaning back against a cool stone wall as they wolfed down their food in relative silence, letting their sweat dry and their bodies cool.

It was mostly peaceful, the sound of windchimes drifting in from the tea room closest to the training yard. Another house was burning somewhere, a pillar of smoke tainting the otherwise blue sky. Watching it and thinking about missed chances and the uncertainty of all of their future, Jinyoung found himself breaking the comfortable quiet with words he perhaps should have said a long time ago.

“Yien-ge really likes you, you know.”

Jiaer choked on the water he had been drinking, sputtering and wheezing as Jinyoung patted his back, trying to help the other breathe again.

“Wh-What– Why are you–  _ What??” _ Jiaer finally settled on, eyes bulging and face red as a pomegranate from the combination of blushing and having almost died of asphyxiation.

Jinyoung gave him a long-suffering smile. Of course Jiaer didn’t know, he was absolutely clueless when it came to Yien, which had been adorable for some time, but as the years had gone by, it had become less endearing and more excruciating to watch. “Yes, you blind fool. He likes you, has liked you for years, and you haven’t noticed?” It was a rhetorical question, packed with not a little prickliness.

“No? What are you talking about?” Jiaer shook his head, like this was the most absurd claim instead of the most obvious thing, as observed by literally everyone else than Jiaer. “Yien-ge?  _ Our  _ Yien-ge? The amazing, perfect, ice-for-a-heart Yien-ge that we know? No way.”

Jinyoung smacked Jiaer lightly over the head. “He doesn’t have ice for a heart, dummy. He just has no eyes for anyone but you.”

Jiaer rubbed the spot where Jiaer had hit him, pouting disproportionately hard compared to the force Jinyoung had used. “Nooooo,” Jiaer whined, trying to deny the obvious truth. “You’re pulling my leg. No way does Yien-ge have feelings for the lowly  _ me. _ Stop saying ridiculous stuff like that, it’s not funny.”

The infinite depth of Jiaer’s denial was starting to give Jinyoung a headache. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, trying to come up with  _ something _ he could use to convince Jiaer so that he and Yien could finally stop orbiting around each other when they could as well acknowledge their feelings and just  _ get together. _

“Just…  _ Try _ to see how he looks at you? Because he does look at you, a lot. Especially when you’re looking somewhere else, but really, he doesn’t have a good enough poker face to hide his heart eyes even if you turn to look at him.” Jinyoung finally settled on.  _ “Gods, _ just the way he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you when he dropped off the food? I thought he was going to implode just from the sight of you sweaty and half naked, it felt like an invasion of his privacy to bear witness.”

Jiaer was looking at his friend with big, round hazelnut eyes, shock, amazement and disbelief all plain to read from his expression. Jinyoung continued, “And pay a little attention to how he acts towards you. He’s a mother hen when it comes to me, that’s one thing, but when there’s  _ any _ indication you might need something, or he just  _ thinks _ you might like something, he will go above and beyond for you and ask you to think nothing about it.”

“B-But,” Jiaer stammered, blinking at Jinyoung helplessly, like he was wordlessly asking the companion to stop saying such wild, confusing things. “He’s never… He hasn’t… He hasn’t said anything?” It came out like a question, like Jinyoung should know the answer. Jinyoung shrugged, merciless.

“He treasures the chance to love you up close too much to risk being rejected by you if he tried to get his feelings to be requited, I think,” Jinyoung told Jiaer truthfully. Jiaer blinked at him, frozen in place as he absorbed the information Jinyoung was feeding him in heaps and mounds.

“Are they requited?” Jinyoung prompted after a moment, when Jiaer hadn’t answered anything.

“I-I,” Jiaer stammered again, breaking eye contact with Jinyoung to have his eyes flit all over his place, landing on the hands that he was wringing around in his lap nervously. “I don’t know, I’ve never thought he’d be interested? In men, or in me, or in  _ anyone _ … I’ve never thought about it,” Jiaer finally concluded, unhelpfully.

Jinyoung sighed, brushing back some small hairs that were sticking to his now mostly dry forehead. This was as good as he could get in one sitting, he figured. “Well, think about it. Pay attention to the little things he does and the looks that he gives you, and you’ll have your answer about his feelings without having to take my word for it. Honestly though, it’s quite obvious to anyone that’s not you two.”

Jiaer looked up at Jinyoung again and blinked a couple of times, before nodding slowly, mechanically. Yes, it seemed like this would be more than enough food for thought for Jiaer for a while, and the guard needed some time to digest. Jinyoung returned the nod and pushed himself up from his knees, dusting his clothes off and pulling the rough training robes firmly closed over his chest again.

“I think this is all we both can take for today, but let’s continue another time, alright?”

Copying Jinyoung, Jiaer got up as well, picking up his previously discarded cotton robe as well and tugging the sleeves on, nodding more naturally now that they had moved away from the topic that was for him so difficult to grasp.

“Sure, another time.”

  
  
  


The next day they got a handful of unsavory customers. It happened every so often when mercenaries came to money that they looked to spend it on favorable company, but more often than not Red Orchid was not their choice of destination, as sex was not something that would be on sale on demand, unlike in many of the other tea and pleasure houses. However, it happened every so often that some of the swordsmen would get into money so good that they felt like spending it on an evening at the famed tea house just to see what all the fanfare about it was.

It was always difficult to have these type of people to really understand the limits of what they could do at the high-standard kind of place like the Red Orchid, but in the current political climate, the information that could be pried out of them was worth the risk and the trouble. The companions selected for them made sure to keep the flow of alcohol steady but not too much to make the men any more rowdy, and they managed to keep the situation in control enough that their guards only had to step in twice to remind the scum to keep their hands to themselves or they would be thrown out immediately. Insults and threats were thrown, but nothing too expensive was broken, and the thugs got enough value for their money not to throw a fuss bigger than a black eye and a split lip.

The information they provided, however, was very valuable. It was confirmed that they were part of a small army, collected of mercenaries and anyone else who could wield a sword and needed the money enough not to care what they had to do for it. Their purposes was to stir unrest in certain noble families, cause some chaos and make sure that the new King and his ruling Dowager Queen had no chance of becoming popular at the start, which was something one could infer from the context, but was nevertheless good to have confirmed.

What was  _ really _ interesting, however, was the off-handed comment the ruffians made about the old King’s death not being all that natural. That sort of information was not something any son or daughter of a noble would dare voice this soon after the fact, so that the Red Orchid gained knowledge of it was invaluable.

Jinyoung worried about Jaebum, although he tried not to put too much thought into his whereabouts or well-being, as the companion had no way of getting information about that, or even guessing how Jaebum may be doing. Jinyoung could only hope that the man had managed to stay safe and away from the riots.

The next day, Jinyoung had an appointment with Taecyeon scheduled. Taecyeon had never been one to cancel lightly, and he most certainly would be up to date on palace matters, so it was the meeting everyone was waiting for with bated breath. It was important enough that when Taecyeon sent a message that he would not be able to come over to the Red Orchid, but would love to have Jinyoung for tea at their house, there was no question that the crown jewel companion would go, despite the risk it posed to his safety and well-being, venturing out of the tea house.

Every measure was taken to make sure Jinyoung was safe, his entourage wholly comprised of guards, instead of the half servants half guards it usually was. Mrs. Kim had even pulled all the best guards for Jinyoung from other companions, which was unusual to say the least, but understandable. The palanquins of the Red Orchid were recognizable, and Jinyoung would be the first companion to venture out for an appointment since after the King had died and the unrest had begun. They had no idea what would happen if a section of the underground army would encounter a palanquin of theirs.

Needless to say, Jinyoung was rather nervous about going all the way over to Taecyeon’s family house. It wasn’t too far, as the Red Orchid was well situated, but there was some distance to cover as the Ok family house was quite close to the palace, signifying their continued importance to the royal family for generations. Usually Jinyoung didn’t feel claustrophobic in the palanquin, but he was bracing himself the whole time, as he knew the guards would have to put him down quite quickly if they were attacked. Yien stayed right next to his palanquin the whole time, speaking in a low voice to keep Jinyoung up to date of what was occurring outside.

They had only been walking for a short while, when Yien informed Jinyoung that there was a patrol of royal guards. This was a relief, as patrols on the main streets made it likely that the unrest would be moving more towards smaller streets to avoid clashing with the armed royal guards, picking easier targets. Jinyoung was able to relax a little, closing his eyes from the red of the inside of the palanquin, focusing on his breathing as he listened to the rhythmical footsteps of the guards escorting him, the palanquin swaying minimally in their orderly stride.

Blessedly, they got all the way to Ok’s house without incidents. Yien opened the flap of the palanquin and Jinyoung opened his eyes slowly, coming to face with Taecyeon’s head servant and guard.

“Welcome,” He greeted Jinyoung politely, before telling their guards that they were to let them pass. The main entrance of the Ok household was at the top of stairs, so Jinyoung’s palanquin had to be set down so he could enter the house with the honor Taecyeon granted him. Yien was there to dutifully give him a hand to help him up, more for show rather than need, but Jinyoung took it gratefully, finding strength in the moment’s hold. As he straightened, sunlight hit Jinyoung’s golden orchid hairpin, a beacon of who he was shining proudly to anyone who was watching, but this time, Jinyoung would have preferred to have more anonymity. However, that was out of the question – Taecyeon paid for the crown jewel of the Red Orchid, so that was what he would get. Standing on his own two feet, feigning more confidence and pride than he currently felt, Jinyoung let go of Yien’s hand again, although holding it had brought him comfort. The palanquin was left with four of the guards in front of the stairs, while Yien and four of the others, Jiaer included, escorted Jinyoung into the house.

Jinyoung usually never brought this many guards with him when he visited Taecyeon, but he was not questioned about it – everyone was aware of how precarious the last few days had been for anyone going outside the walls of their own home. Simply coming here was an expression of great trust, and having an armed entourage was only for what the Ok’s could not control.

Taecyeon waited for him where they had always met when Jinyoung was here – in the sitting room in his wing, eyes smiling as they caught the sight of the companion. The door was closed behind him, giving an illusion of privacy, although there were Taecyeon’s servants and Jinyoung’s guards in hearing distance, should they raise their voices. It was a beautiful weather outside, and Taecyeon had had the side of his room opened to provide a view into the gardens, apricot trees and chrysanthemums in full boom. Being familiar with the scenery from Taecyeon’s room, Jinyoung had dressed into a blue and green silk robe with a white chrysanthemum pattern to match, knowing Taecyeon would note the attention to detail and appreciate it.

After everything that had gone wrong with Jinyoung’s last house visit, it was relieving for things to be exactly as he had expected this time. Taecyeon raised to greet him, offering him a hand to walk him over to his seat, asking about the journey here. Jinyoung laid his hand over Taecyeon’s gently and allowed himself to be led.

“It was uneventful, thankfully,” Jinyoung answered Taecyeon’s question. “I’m sorry for the amount of guards I had to bring, but the streets have been unsafe as of late,” Jinyoung added courteously, although unnecessarily, straightening his robes after sitting down and assuming a perfect posture.

“Of course, it’s terrible that since the late King’s passing, the scum has risen to rebel and riot without a cause,” Taecyeon answered with disdain in his voice. Jinyoung took note of his eagerness of discussing the topic, a good sign, since it was in the companion’s interests to have Taecyeon talk about the recent politics as much as possible.

With practiced fingers, Jinyoung picked up the pot of tea that had been prepared for them carefully, pouring gracefully for both the lord and himself, putting all due attention to the art. The fragrance of the tea was wonderful, an intricate blend of two different kinds of green tea that Taecyeon favored, the taste more on the bitter side.

With the tea poured, Jinyoung picked up the conversation again. “It is often when tides change that opportunists rise to stir things up.” His words were a careful allusion towards the families likely behind the armed groups causing unrest, without pointing to anyone directly.

“That is true,” Taecyeon admitted, picking up the cup Jinyoung prepared for him and lifting it to his lips, pausing to appreciate the scent before taking the first sip. “It’s fairly obvious that these riots are arranged rather than emergent, but they are frightening the citizens nevertheless.”

Jinyoung nodded in assent, raising his own cup to his mouth, turning it precisely. The blend was excellent. Rolling a mouthful of the warm liquid on his tongue, Jinyoung gave due appreciation to the tea, before continuing on with his quest for information. “It seems that would serve their purpose,” he commented observantly, eyeing Taecyeon over the rim of his cup. Jinyoung was displaying his intelligence and knowledge blatantly, not revealing too much, but giving clear indication of his understanding about the current political climate. It would have been a dangerous move in some company, but Taecyeon knew of and appreciated his intellect, and Jinyoung was betting on that.

Taecyeon studied him carefully, onyx eyes sharp and perceptive, but not hostile. He was wearing a dark purple robe today with a faint rooster pattern, new, or at least one Jinyoung hadn’t seen before. The symbolic of the rooster encaptured the road that had been paved for the first son of the Chief State Councillor: intelligence, patience, trust, science of war and bravery. Taecyeon had been raised to rise into power and protect the dynasty as his father and grandfather before him. Jinyoung knew he was one of the man’s few, if not only weaknesses, and he was most definitely testing the limits of his power over him by speaking of dangerous, important topics as boldly as this.

“Your perception and wit are dangerous in these times,” Taecyeon pointed out. It could have been admonishing, were it not for his tone; tender, rather than anything else.

Jinyoung smiled, but it was a sharp, clever expression instead of the practiced, serene smile he usually wore. “More wars are won with wits and information than swords,” He answered, “And in these precarious times everyone must do their part to keep safe what they hold dear.”

“Indeed,” Taecyeon conceded, but a smile was tugging on his lips too, amused at the bluntness the companion was displaying today. “So then, what is it that you’ve come to do here, today?” He asked, cutting to the chase, but Jinyoung was not done playing.

“To see you, of course, my lord,” The companion retorted, making Taecyeon chuckle in delight, although the lord understood very well that Jinyoung was playing games. “But perhaps, spreading light on the events of the last few days, as I’ve just been cooped up at the Red Orchid, would serve a purpose as well,” He admitted, giving Taecyeon some rope.

“Alright, I’ll indulge you,” The lord chuckled, always  _ so weak _ for Jinyoung that this was ridiculously easy, when it shouldn’t be. The companion almost felt bad for him. Almost. “If you’ll indulge me,” Taecyeon added and smiled, gesturing towards their table and the assorted treats on it, although it was unnecessary. Jinyoung was here to have tea with his customer even without doing favors, but Taecyeon liked to feel that the companion was going an extra mile just for him, so that was exactly how Jinyoung aimed to make him feel.

Taecyeon shifted where he sat in a shuffle of silk, leaning over to pick up a dried tangerine treat in his fingers. He considered it for a moment before putting it into his mouth, a carefully chosen contrast to the bitter tea he had drunk just moments before. Jinyoung followed his lead and tried the alternation of flavors as well, the sweetness of the tangerine overwhelming after the strong tea, but not in a bad way. Jinyoung let out an appreciative hum, knowing that Taecyeon liked pleasing him, and showing preference for something the lord had picked out for them would put him in a good mood. Although, the preserved tangerines were a rather safe pick from Taecyeon – Jinyoung had already shown preference for them last time. Taecyeon must have missed him. Also, the powdered sugar always gave excuses for show. For now, Jinyoung wiped his fingers in a handkerchief placed at his seat, but if Taecyeon was  _ very _ good, Jinyoung might just use his mouth to clean his own fingers later.

Jinyoung complimented the lord on the combination of the tea and the tangerines for good measure. Taecyeon beamed, his charm coming to full bloom like this, relaxed and happy in Jinyoung’s company, but as the companion continued to stare at him expectantly, his expression got more serious again, although his good mood was still apparent.

“So, what do you want to know?”

With the provided opening, Jinyoung didn’t hesitate.

“What’s the situation in court?”

Taecyeon raised his eyebrows at the boldness of the companion, but Jinyoung simply smiled pleasantly. He was fully aware of how risky it was for him to pose a question like this and so directly too, but to do so was expressing trust in Ok Taecyeon; trusting for him not to put the companion in an unfavorable position by admonishing him for it. By approaching the topic boldly, Jinyoung was making it easier for Taecyeon to concede information as well, as they would both be putting their heads on the line, discussing a dangerous topic openly.

It was hardly an equal trade, considering the difference of importance between Taecyeon, the only son of the Chief State Councillor Ok, and Jinyoung, an orphan with no other name to himself than his title as the crown jewel of the Red Orchid. Putting Jinyoung in a difficult position only endangered the Red Orchid and whoever they brought down with them, but Taecyeon’s family background as a supporter of the King was far more precious. Anything that could be used against them would in the hands of someone like Yang Hyunsuk prove detrimental, if not fatal, to their new King.

Taecyeon took another sip of tea as he formed his answer, wisely taking his time before speaking of matters as sensitive as this.

“As far as is in your knowledge, what would you expect to be happening in the court?” Taecyeon finally asked. His words were a test for Jinyoung, to prove that he wasn’t all talk – that he had enough of an understanding about the situation that information that the lord could provide would be interpreted correctly.

“We would expect Yang Hyunsuk and those allied with him to be working towards undermining the position of the new King and the Queen Dowager,” Jinyoung answered honestly, knowing that this would give him the best result with Taecyeon.

“That is mostly correct,” Taecyeon admitted. “But he’s mainly working on undermining the Queen Dowager and gain control of the new King himself. The late King did everything to ensure that should he die while his son, the now King, was still too young to rule, that those supporting his best interests would be strong.”

Taecyeon paused, touching his cup in consideration, but dropping his hand without lifting it. “As I inadvertently told you before, the Left State Councillor’s position was given to Yang Hyunsuk in hopes to appease him, that he might not seek to disturb the balance of power if he already had a worthy position in court, but that, it seems, is not the extent of his greed. Now, with one hand, he seeks to gain influence over the court and the new King, and with the other he tries to discredit the Queen Dowager and threatens the dynasty with veiled rumours he has no doubt made up himself to allude that he would have more power over the royal family than he does.”

Jinyoung absorbed the information Taecyeon was showering him with like a sponge. The companion brought his tea cup to his lips again to take another savoured sip while he tried to see how these new pieces fit into this puzzle, and what the emerging image could allude him about the big picture.

“What rumours?” Jinyoung finally asked, knowing that this was a crucial piece.

Taecyeon’s smile turned into a pained one, and Jinyoung knew he had finally pushed far enough to have met with a line that Taecyeon would not cross for him. It was good that there was one. “I think it best to not to spread those types of traitorous rumours outside of the court, although for all I know Yang Hyunsuk might start spreading them amongst the common folk himself unless he keeps getting his way in court.”

Something about Taecyeon’s wording made the pieces snap into place. Jinyoung’s mind flashed back to what Choi Siwon had said about people with ties to the royal family being kept tabs on, to the phoenix comb as a symbol of those ties, and the other heavy object Jaebum had left for him to keep safe, buried in a pot in the garden of the Red Orchid. A picture was starting to form. For Choi Siwon to react so strongly to the news of a phoenix comb, there must have been a loaded set of expectations, coming from Yang Hyunsuk more likely than not. And knowing how smart Yang Hyunsuk was and how closely he kept his cards to his chest, him keeping even those allied to him in the dark would not be surprising.

There was only one way to find out just how right Jinyoung was, although he was already getting the distinct feeling that his interpretation couldn’t be wrong.

“Did Yang Hyunsuk imply there’d be a person with ties to the royal family that he could use to substitute the King?”

Taecyeon blinked at him in surprise, Jinyoung’s words catching him enough off guard that he couldn’t quite hide the shock on his face. Frankly, that was already answer enough, because Taecyeon didn’t look  _ scandalized, _ like he would have if this was the first time he was hearing this.

“Where on earth have you heard that from?” Taecyeon asked instead of answering the question.

“I haven’t heard that from anywhere, my lord,” Jinyoung replied truthfully, shrugging before catching himself, realizing he was acting far too casual, and pulling himself into a perfect posture again. “But it’s where the things I  _ have _ heard are pointing, and judging from your reaction, my lord, my conclusion was not wrong.”

Taecyeon raised a hand to rub a knuckle into the space between his eyebrows, trying to alleviate tension. He was obviously distressed by the extent of Jinyoung’s knowledge and what it might mean for the political situation.

“Anything about what you’ve heard that you might be able to tell me?”

Taecyeon was asking him for a huge favor, and the lord knew it. The Red Orchid was on no one’s side in politics, and its companions did not divulge things from one customer to another’s gain. Taecyeon knew very well Yang Hyunsuk was Jinyoung’s customer too, but being in both of their favor hinged on either one not gaining information about the other from him. Taecyeon knew he was toeing the line by asking more about what Jinyoung had heard, when he knew Jinyoung could not disclose information heard in the confidence of a customer without running serious risk to himself and the Red Orchid.

Luckily to Taecyeon, Choi Siwon was not a customer of theirs.

“I can’t tell you what has been told to me in the confidence of a customer, my lord, and you know that,” Jinyoung begun, and Taecyeon was nodding already, accepting the companion’s answer before he was finished, but Jinyoung didn’t give Taecyeon the time to interrupt him and dismiss an apology that wasn’t coming. “But recently, there is information that did not come from a customer of ours, so that I can discuss. And that information is that Choi Siwon is looking for a man outside of the nobles and the palace with close ties to the royal family, seeming convinced that such a person exist.”

Taecyeon considered this for a moment.

“I see. And if Choi Siwon is convinced such a person exist, this information is likely to come from Yang Hyunsuk. Very clever, Jinyoung-ah,” Taecyeon complimented him, and Jinyoung accepted it with a graceful smile and nod. The older man’s expression got darker again as he considered the implications, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “And if Yang Hyunsuk has his allies convinced, it’s more probable that he  _ is _ actually harboring a person with alleged ties rather than that it to be a ruse, an empty threat to try and bring the Queen Dowager into line.”

Taecyeon sighed, taking a moment to let the heavy words settle in the air between them. When he spoke again, he met the companion’s eyes with sincere gratefulness shining in them. “Thank you, Jinyoung-ah. This is very valuable information. We had rather hoped Yang Hyunsuk was making it up, but it seems that we need to take precautions for him making true on his threat and bringing in someone he would claim better suited for the throne.”

Jinyoung’s mind flashed back to Jaebum, to how he had met with the Yangs and Chois and been shocked to later find out from Jinyoung that they were actually allied against the then King and Crown Prince. He thought of the items Jaebum had given him, and how the man had told him he would go into hiding to avoid getting mixed into things he wanted no part in. And Jinyoung knew Jaebum would not allow Yang Hyunsuk to succeed.

“I think…” Jinyoung began carefully, more hesitant than he had been before, because  _ this _ was something that made him feel vulnerable, thinking about Jaebum and the secrets the man was keeping. “If I’m not wrong, the person Yang Hyunsuk wants to use does not want to get involved… And as far as I know, Yang Hyunsuk does not know his whereabouts.”

These were words Jinyoung was unsure of, but somehow, he felt like he  _ needed _ to convince Taecyeon that if he was right, if Jaebum was someone Yang Hyunsuk would seek to potentially lift to the throne, that Jaebum’s intentions were anything but to do so. Of course, it was bold of Jinyoung to claim this, to even  _ think _ he knew what Jaebum really wanted, but Jinyoung  _ needed _ to believe it, and needed to convince Taecyeon of it as well.

Taecyeon studied him long and hard, tea growing cooler in the cup he hadn’t raised to his lips for a while now. The scent of smoke was drifting in from somewhere, but whether it was from the kitchens or from another burning piece of property, Jinyoung didn’t know. The companion was uncertain what Taecyeon was seeing on his face, but he knew that he had bared himself to the man like he had never before, and that was an aspect that frightened Jinyoung.

“Alright,” Taecyeon finally said. It was obvious from the way Jinyoung had said it that he had an idea of  _ who _ it was that Yang Hyunsuk would be using for his plot, but Taecyeon didn’t press it, understanding without saying that that would be something Jinyoung would not disclose. “If you are right, it’s at least some good to this bad news.”

They landed in silence, sipping on their now lukewarm tea, the shared information giving both of them much to think about. They had spent their meeting talking about politics instead of spending a leisurely afternoon discussing books and having tea, but as far as Jinyoung was concerned, they both had gotten more value for their time and money like this.

“One more thing,” Taecyeon said when Jinyoung was finishing his tea, preparing to leave. “I don’t know if I remember correctly, but I think I’ve seen the second son of the Choi family at the Red Orchid a time or two?”

It was possible – Taecyeon frequented the Red Orchid and Choi Youngjae had occasionally appointments with others than Jinyoung, so it was possible their schedules had overlapped so that they might have seen each other in the halls. After a moment’s hesitation, deliberating over if this piece of information was one he would trust with the son of the Chief State Councillor, Jinyoung finally nodded. This was clearly a lead-in into something Taecyeon wanted to impart on him, and Jinyoung wished to know. After all, Taecyeon never spoke lightly, and if there was a piece of information he wanted into the knowledge of Jinyoung and by proxy the Red Orchid, it was not a lead Jinyoung could afford to lose.

What he said, however, made Jinyoung’s blood run cold with dread; he had an idea where this was going, and it wasn’t good.

“The thing Yang Hyunsuk is currently pressuring the Queen Dowager and the court about, is for Choi Youngjae to become the King’s personal guard.”

Choi Youngjae, who had been put through hell and back to get trained with the sword and a variety of weapons from poisons to blades and blunt instruments. The second son of the minister of defense, someone of the perfect age, background and training to be put into the most important position to watch over the King. And since his family was aligned with the Yangs, he would, by proxy, be giving Yang Hyunsuk straight access to the young King.

There was no way Yang Hyunsuk was doing this just out of the goodness of his heart to get Choi Youngjae an honorable position in the palace. The Left State Councillor definitely intended to use Choi Youngjae as a pawn for  _ something, _ and it wouldn’t be anything good, or anything that would end up well for Choi Youngjae should anything go wrong. In the worst-case scenario, it wouldn’t end up well for Choi Youngjae even if everything went right.

“Oh.” Jinyoung’s heart went out to the young lord, who had always struggled to match his family’s expectations. It was not likely to get any easier for him.

Taecyeon made an assenting, but dissatisfied grunt, his expression solemn, almost stormy. “It is likely that he get his way too, as it seems that the other candidates of suitable age and astrological compatibility seem to have been scared off.”

Jinyoung narrowed his lips, nodding as he filed this information away, although he was as of yet unsure why this was something Taecyeon had wanted to disclose to him. Perhaps it was to repay the gesture of Jinyoung sharing something additional although there had been no need, or perhaps it was a warning of what was coming. Either way, Jinyoung would pay heed.

Smoothing out his robes as he stood, palms running over the embroidery on his silk, Jinyoung moved to bow courteously to the young lord.

“Thank you for today,” Jinyoung said, and he wasn’t talking about the tea. Taecyeon returned the thanks, effectively dismissing the companion.

It seemed, however, that Jinyoung’s day was far from being over, for when he stepped out of Taecyeon’s wing, Yien right behind him, he was met with Taecyeon’s wife, Yubin. She had just happened to have been on a walk in the yard right at the time Jinyoung’s appointment was to end. How convenient.

“Good afternoon, companion,” Yubin addressed him after Jinyoung rose out of his respectful bow, one he held for a second longer than he did for most.

Taecyeon’s wife always made the point to never call the companion by his name. Jinyoung did not blame her for resenting him, and since it was only her adding a level of formality between them, he didn’t mind. He had been called much worse. Although it was neither his intention nor his aim, she suffered because of him. Jinyoung could take the blunt of the bitterness he caused every now and then, if it made her feel a little better.

“Good afternoon, my lady. Your gardens are flourishing under your tender care, and yet they are no match for your beauty,” Jinyoung greeted her courteously. She was wearing her hair in a low bun Jinyoung had favored this winter season.

“And yet their beauty gets ignored for a flower blooming just out of reach,” She countered icily, her eyes as hard as stone. It was a shame – if they had met under different circumstances, if the heart of her husband could warm up to her instead of yearning after him, they could have perhaps gotten along well. But it was as out of his control as it was of hers.

“Flowers on a steep cliff are but meant to be admired in passing. They wouldn’t flourish in a garden, nor would they on close inspection compare to a flower cultivated to please with its scent and beauty,” Jinyoung reassured her, silver tongue running although he knew it was useless to try and convince her.

Yubin’s face betrayed a flash of annoyance, her painted red lips pursing and the faintest line appearing between her eyebrows.

“In passing!” She scoffed, and Jinyoung realized his choice of words could have been chosen better. “It’s hardly in passing anymore when it’s regularly for years, and it seems what’s in a garden can’t compare. It’s only because the flower can’t grow and multiply in a garden that it has been allowed to continue.”

Jinyoung was far too well practiced in holding a perfectly polite smile for it to falter even at a jab like that, but sure, it was the truth – it was impossible for Jinyoung to give Taecyeon an heir that would challenge her position or the position of her as-of-yet unconceived descendants. Not that Jinyoung even had carnal relations with any of his customers, which she very well knew, but was now taking a shot at.

“Yes, well,” The companion widened his smile into an even more pleasant one, although this one was more obviously fake. “Lucky at that. There’s no reason to worry that a mountain flower would overtake the flora in a yard.”

“Of course it can’t,” Yubin answered snootily, years of frustration having worn down on a woman that Jinyoung knew had been known as compassionate. “It hasn’t been cultivated for that.”

Her eyes were looking the companion up and down with disdain that did not convince Jinyoung – he knew that she would be seen in something imitating the ensemble the companion was wearing today within half a month. He should pick something that would flatter her better next time. A bright red or a cold shade of pink, perhaps, something more feminine than he usually went for. It would be kinder for her sake.

It was all Jinyoung could reasonably do for her, since there was no way he would stop seeing Taecyeon unless the lord decided that he was tired of the companion, and Jinyoung did not see that happening any time soon. Having Ok Taecyeon as a customer was far too valuable to give up for the sake of pity, especially since that pity was unlikely to amount to the happiness of his wife anyway – even if Jinyoung only stopped seeing Taecyeon unilaterally, there was no guarantee the lord’s feelings would die.

“Certainly not,” Jinyoung conceded graciously, bowing his head.

Yubin considered the companion for a while. She was a proud woman, intelligent and beautiful and from a good family. How it must hurt her to not get the affections of the man she had loved since she had known what it was, even after he had been bound to her, just like she had always wanted. The companion could see it in her eyes, the pain of rejection and the hopelessness brought on by it. Jinyoung knew Yubin didn’t hate him, not really – she was educated enough to know to respect him, and out of all the people that Taecyeon could have loved instead of her, the crown jewel companion of the Red Orchid was definitely the best choice – unattainable and unable to produce offspring, like she had said, and not someone that would not tarnish Taecyeon’s reputation any more than the fact that his affections laid elsewhere than with his wife.

“I’m sorry,” Yubin finally said, “I shouldn’t keep you for longer.” The tone of her voice was gentler now, more sincere. Jinyoung could tell she was also apologizing for her words, having been more spiteful than had been necessary and realizing it. She wasn’t a bad person, only a woman brought up wanting for nothing stuck in a situation where she couldn’t get what she wanted the most and facing the judgement of others for not fulfilling the only expectation society had for her.

Jinyoung’s expression softened into a smile much more genuine than the previous ones. “Thank you, my lady. I’ll be going now.”

  
  
  


The palanquin was attacked on the way back to the Red Orchid.

Jinyoung had been unprepared for it, lulled into a false sense of security by the uneventful ride there. When Yien suddenly ordered for the palanquin to be set down and it was, with great haste, Jinyoung hit his head on the roof with a yelp, not having had the time to brace himself.

There was nothing the companion could do, and that was the worst of it – getting out of the palanquin would only serve the assailants, so Jinyoung was stuck inside, palm the pressed to where he had hit his forehead, listening to the sounds of metal hitting metal as his friends fought to protect him at the risk of their own lives. The red that tinted everything inside the palanquin was oppressing like this, the walls like they were closing in on Jinyoung as he feared for the worst. His ears were straining to recognize any sounds from the mouths of his guards, the occasional battle cry or the shout of a man that got hit over the sounds of scuffle. The only real indication Jinyoung had of how the battle was going were the short yells in Chinese that Jiaer and Yien were using to communicate, making use of the language few here knew; three on the left, slash low, behind you.

The fight felt like it lasted forever, but it couldn’t have been more than a few short moments when a retreat was called as it became clear that the palanquin was better protected than had been expected. Jinyoung’s heart was pounding in his chest with anxiety and worry, clutching onto the edges of the palanquin, hoping to dear gods that no one was hurt and feeling terrible about the danger they got in for him.

“Everyone’s in one piece,” was the first thing Yien said, directed at Jinyoung, and the companion was immensely thankful to him for Yien to rely him that information immediately, relief flooding his chest that they had  _ made it– _

_ “ _ Jaehyung’s arm is hurt pretty badly,” Someone said, “He can’t carry the palanquin.”

“We’ll switch,” Yien immediately said, and taking Jaehyung’s place as a carrier, they were able to make the rest of the way back to the safety of the Red Orchid, steps hurried and everyone’s guard up for another potential attack.

Yien didn’t realize until Jinyoung got out of the palanquin that the companion had gotten hurt, making a big fuss out of it although Jinyoung considered the bump at his hairline nothing compared to the cuts and bruises and the broken arm the guards had gotten. It was only lucky none of them had gotten seriously hurt, even Jaehyung’s arm was deemed likely to heal almost perfectly by the doctor that had been called, the Red Orchid sparing no expense to take care of one of their own.

Their assailants hadn’t been like the mercenaries that had visited them days before – according to the guards, they had been better dressed and trained, although the differences were subtle. With this knowledge, it was reasonable to assume that they had been targeting the palanquin specifically, making use of the cover of groups of soldiers causing unrest, and that certainly didn’t ease anyone’s mind about more companions venturing out to meet customers.

Jinyoung certainly wasn’t about to leave the Red Orchid again lightly before the uprising was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things happening again in this chapter and no Jaebum in sight! You’ll have to miss him for a while longer still: you’ve now been subscribed to a historical political drama, and I hope you enjoy it >:D
> 
> Have some side Markson while we’re at it though. Life in Tea Blossom Joseon is too short not to have the idiots get together. But because they're idiots, they need to idiot for a while before they do.
> 
> Taecyeon to the rescue to provide us with _some_ more information about everything!
> 
> Please don’t hate Yubin, I wanted to bring her in as the contrast, as the consequence and the human cost of what Jinyoung does for a living. I very much enjoyed the interaction of her and Jinyoung, and I hope you got from that the pain that she feels.
> 
> Let me know how you liked the chapter in the comments ♥.
> 
> As always, the path to the next chapter can be followed on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/seitsemannen).


	10. Tenth Petal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Let’s begin it with an exciting chapter with Jinyoung’s conclusions about what is going on, and some foreshadowing~
> 
> BUT FIRST. YOU HAVE TO SEE THE AMAZING [FANART](https://twitter.com/monikirogers/status/1079549110582235136) MIKI MADE!!!! It's so beautiful, I'm in love ♥

Jinyoung’s mood was stormy as he left the room given to Jaehyung for the time being as the injured guard had to rest. Jaehyung was lucky that his arm was broken, not cut – he had no big, open wound that would get infected and putrefy, and thus didn’t need to battle for his life these first few nights. Nevertheless, Mrs. Kim had wanted the wounded guard to be comfortable, so a private room had been arranged.

Although it wasn’t his job, Wonpil had refused to leave Jaehyung’s side, nagging to his guard endlessly as he worried over him. Their relationship was tumultuous at best with their endless bickering, but it was often when push came to shove that love really showed, and that was the case for Wonpil and Jaehyung as well. Seeing Wonpil’s eyes red from crying had broken Jinyoung’s heart, the guilt from being indirectly involved in causing this hurt to Jaehyung and through him to Wonpil as well hitting Jinyoung again in full force. He hadn’t seen Wonpil shed a single tear, but it was obvious that the musician had cried, it was just that he had stepped into Jaehyung’s room only after he had stopped crying. It had been just before the doctor had left after doing everything he could for the guard, and Jaehyung had been so out of it he hadn’t even mocked Wonpil about his swollen eyes. That in itself had said all that was necessary about the severity of the situation.

Jinyoung had had a lot of time to think, in and out of Jaehyung’s room as he tried to be more useful than in the way, bringing hot water and fresh linen and talking to the guards about what they could tell him about the men that had attacked them. But no matter how many times he went over what Taecyeon had said, and re-evaluated what Choi Siwon had said in the light of it, and taken into account all the events of the past few days that the Red Orchid had gotten knowledge of, Jinyoung could not come to other conclusions than the ones he feared.

So when he finally did leave Jaehyung’s room for the night, guilt he felt because of the guard’s wounds finally being overwhelmed by the desire to give Wonpil and Jaehyung some space, Jinyoung was more than upset – he was livid.

Darkness had fallen at some point, which Jinyoung had only noticed for the lamps he had had to light for the doctor to see, and the Red Orchid had concluded business for the night a long time ago. Almost everyone was already in their beds, so the halls were quiet, only lit by the occasional lamp that they kept lit for those that returned late from events – not that there were many of those right now, what with the nobles keeping mostly to themselves in fear caused by the instability of the current political situation and the lack of safety in Hanseong, as the order was only barely kept by the guards of the royal family. Jinyoung kept his steps light and quiet as he ventured through the halls with only one destination in mind, the silk socks he wore helping his silence, although he couldn’t quite muster the almost perfectly soundless steps that Yien did, only a step behind him.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Jinyoung murmured, his voice pitched low so that he would not disturb anyone else, but that Yien was able to hear him. Jinyoung didn’t specify what he was talking about, nor was he giving any inclination of where he was going specifically, so he had no idea how much of his thought process Yien was able to follow. However, the statement was rhetorical anyway, not requiring a response, although the guard chose to give one.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. No, that wasn’t quite right. “I don’t want to be right, or I’m afraid of being right, as much as I would be in trouble for being wrong,” He amended.

He turned a corner, opening silently the door to his favorite tea room, the one he served all of his regulars in, with the most beautiful view of the garden. Jinyoung was halfway to the screen doors that had been closed for the night, blocking the view to the garden, when Yien closed the door behind them with the softest of sounds. The room was dark, the only light coming through the screens from the outside, only the slightest sheen of moonlight through paper. Jinyoung didn’t need light in the room to know his way around, and the darkness more than suited his purposes – he didn’t want anyone seeing what he would be doing.

“And what is it that you’re afraid to be right about?” Yien asked patiently into the quiet room, not letting Jinyoung get far ahead of him.

Jinyoung didn’t hesitate on which screen to open, pushing it quietly before he kneeled, peeling the silk socks off of his feet carelessly. His robes were in a state of disarray, as he hadn’t bothered to straighten them out every time they moved as he helped the doctor and Jaehyung, performing more laborious tasks than he usually did when he was clad in his silks. Jinyoung cared little about his appearance when it wasn’t for the guests or to upkeep the image of the Red Orchid. He stepped carefully into the small space between the house and the flowerbeds, kneeling down the best he could, the gravel unpleasant underneath his feet. Yien remained in the room, but kneeled as well. It had been pretty clear what Jinyoung was up to already when he had stepped into this specific room, but it was obvious now. The earth was cold as Jinyoung dug his fingers into it.

“Imagine a family of importance, where a son was sent away at a young age due to whatever reason. What would the father give to that son so that he would know and be able to prove who he is, years later?” Jinyoung asked instead of answering, moving soil away from where he knew Yien had buried the pot with Jaebum’s secrets. He had already found the shape of the lid, but he needed to still uncover it fully so that he could lift it.

“Wouldn’t a letter suffice?” Yien asked. He was giving Jinyoung what the companion had asked for – the possibility to be wrong.

But no. Jinyoung shook his head. “That could – but a letter might get damaged easily, and someone might argue it to be forged.”

“Wouldn’t a father from an important family use the family seal to stamp it? Wouldn’t that make it at least difficult, if not impossible to forge in a way that would not be found out when compared with the real deal?”

Jinyoung stopped for a moment to tilt his head back and throw Yien a smile that was everything but happy. “Good!” He complimented the guard before focusing back on his digging, finally able to lift the lid without the risk of a lot of soil tumbling right into the pot when he did. He fished out the pouch with the previously unrecognized heavy square object, ignoring the phoenix comb, although it had been a crucial piece in solving this puzzle as well. However, it wasn’t the incriminating piece of evidence – this one was.

Cradling the silk pouch in both hands, his fingers numb from the cold, Jinyoung took a moment to weigh it again and measure it with his eyes like in a final attempt to try and convince himself that it wouldn’t be what he was now sure that it was. Even though there was little light and Jinyoung had no more to go on with his touch than he had before, once the answer had clicked into its place in his brain it seemed impossible to disprove.

Jinyoung wasn’t wrong. He knew that he wasn’t with absolute surety, even without the proof he would get if he opened the pouch and actually looked at the secret he had been asked to hide.

“But wouldn’t it eliminate the need to question the legitimacy of the claim if instead of a letter, the father gave the son the seal?”

A seal explained the form inside the pouch perfectly, and it also explained its importance to Jaebum, and why the traveller would ask Jinyoung not to look inside. The only thing the companion could not be sure about was which family the seal belonged to, but Choi Siwon’s suspicions gave Jinyoung a good idea what was the likely one.

And that was scary. Here Jinyoung was, in the middle of unrest after the change of the regime, sitting in the yard of a companion house with what was likely to be the seal of the royal family cradled against his hands. It was insane – with this, if he wanted,  _ Jinyoung _ could claim to be related by blood to the royal family and demand the re-evaluation of the order of ascension. With this, Jinyoung was exactly who Choi Siwon would want him to be. It was more than dangerous to have this, although now Jinyoung could understand why Jaebum had wanted it to be safekept by someone other than him – if Jaebum had to be in hiding and he was robbed, or caught by Yang’s men, it would be disastrous. Without the seal and furthermore, the phoenix comb, there was no way to really prove who Jaebum was, Jinyoung guessed.

Jinyoung hurried to place the pouch back into the pot, suddenly needing to get it out of his hands as soon as possible. Yien remained silent, the weight of realization heavy between them.

Yien didn’t help him bury the pot again, having the forethought to leave to fetch shoes for Jinyoung, so that they could make an entrance somewhere where any soil that might fall off of the companions robes, hands or feet would not be as conspicuous as it would be in Jinyoung’s tea room. Jinyoung’s fingers were as cold as ice by the time Yien came to him with shoes and a servant’s cotton robe to throw over his to make an inconspicuous entry through the back door. However, one could hardly blame Yien for the numbness of Jinyoung’s fingers – it was Jinyoung’s own fault for acting so rashly, but it had felt like a waste of time and risking to get caught to sneak through the back door and getting tools from the shed that would have made the digging easier.

Once they had gotten back inside without further delay, and were back to Jinyoung’s room, Yien showed no signs of admonishment towards the reckless companion. The guard was as gentle as ever as he washed Jinyoung’s hands in warm water, doing his best to get the nail beds clean in the light of the single lamp Jinyoung had allowed him to light in the room. It was in moments like this that Jinyoung felt like he didn’t deserve Yien’s endless patience and care, when the only thing it seemed that he brought the guard was premature grey hairs.

“What will you do now?” Yien finally asked as he dried off Jinyoung’s hands and applied cream to them to keep their skin as soft and plump as ever, hiding any hardship, something the guard never did to his own, Jinyoung knew.

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung answered honestly, his voice small and quiet, sounding as lost as he felt. It had been a long, exhausting and terrifying day, and Yien was not someone Jinyoung needed to hide vulnerability from, so he didn’t. “I have no way of contacting him, so I’ll have to keep hold of them – firstly because they were entrusted to me, and secondly because I don’t even know who I would trust with them outside of the Red Orchid. Ok Taecyeon? Park Jinyoung? Both are supposedly on the side of the crown, but who knows if they might get tempted by the opportunity presented, and even if they wouldn’t, the likelihood that they would just give them back to Jaebum when he’d return is low.”

“You’re right about that part – as little as I like it, it’s better for you to keep those things hidden than for you to give them to someone else,” Yien agreed, pausing for a long moment as his dark eyes searched Jinyoung’s for answers to a question Jinyoung didn’t know. After a moment the older man continued, each word chosen carefully, “However, there  _ is _ a way to contact him, or more precisely, get him to contact you.”

Jinyoung perked up immediately. “Really? What is it?”

He didn’t fight it when Yien let go of his hands and gestured for his legs as the guard shifted so that he could wash the companion’s feet next. Anything to keep the guard talking, even though this amount of pampering was definitely excess – but Jinyoung knew Yien was calmed by being allowed to take care of people, and he was as shaken by the events of the day as Jinyoung was, maybe even more so.

Yien took the companion’s socks off one by one, carefully, before setting them into the warm water, dirtier now that Jinyoung’s hands had already been washed in it. He kept his eyes down, focused on his work, only lifting them occasionally to glance at Jinyoung. “I would not ask that of you, nor even suggest it, even for something as important as this. But there certainly is something that you could do that would most likely prompt that person out of his hiding, if everything he has done up until now for you is any indication.”

Jinyoung rolled Yien’s words over in his head, trying to figure out what the guard meant. He narrowed his eyes at the older man. “I’m not going to make the seal public knowledge, nor even spread rumours about it. That would be perilous, even treasonous, and a breach of his trust.”

The look in Yien’s eyes was one of indignation that Jinyoung would even  _ think _ that  _ Yien _ would allude to something that dangerous. “No, never, that’s  _ not _ an option and definitely not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Jinyoung asked impatiently. He was trying to keep his feet still. Yien knew he was ticklish from his feet, so he was keeping the movements of the washcloth he was using firm, but it was still distracting.

“Nothing that would endanger you,” Yien said firmly, but hesitated immediately after. “Or at least,  _ shouldn’t _ endanger you. You seem to attract danger lately no matter what you do.”

“Tell me,” Jinyoung demanded.

Yien shook his head, eyes determined as he fixed the companion with a gaze, and that look was already enough to tell Jinyoung that no matter what he said, the guard would not budge on this. “I will not. Although it may not be dangerous, it comes with a great cost, which must be paid even if he doesn’t contact you. It has to be of your own free will to pay it, so if it does not even occur to you, I will not say it.”

The companion pursed his lips in displeasure, but didn’t say anything more, knowing it to be fruitless. Yien was stubborn when he made up his mind about something, and there was nothing to be said to sway him, so, like Yien had told him, Jinyoung would have to come up with the way himself. Yien had given him the tools to do so – told him that there was a way and that it was costly. Jinyoung would figure out what he had meant sooner, or later.

He hoped sooner, because it was unlikely that the situation would be getting any less dangerous by itself for everyone at the Red Orchid any time soon. In months, perhaps, if the unrest settled and the Queen Regent’s reign stabilized, but Jaehyung’s broken arm reminded Jinyoung that the longer this continued, the more people were likely to get hurt. Not that getting Jaebum to take back the two silk pouches meant that the target would be off of the Red Orchid, but they would most certainly be in more danger while the pouches were still on the grounds.

The key to it was surely the price Jinyoung needed to pay – if it was anything material, he doubted Yien would have hesitated to tell him, because the companion didn’t care if he would have to give up his fine silk robes or any or all of his jewelled accessories – so it had to be something else. But what it exactly was, Jinyoung couldn’t figure out that night, even after Yien had finished washing him and putting him to bed. The stress of the day weighed heavily on Jinyoung’s eyelids, and despite his attempts to dwell on what Yien could have meant, he fell asleep quickly after the guard had left his room.

  
  
  


Wonpil came to him the next day. Jinyoung had been sitting on the balcony, once again having a day without visits from regulars, but he had still wanted to do his part by being there in the lounge for other customers to gawk at. He had been rereading The Eight Dog Chronicles, having ran out of books to read already some days ago, tuning out the murmur of conversation, although he still remained aware of his surroundings. It had been enough for Wonpil to come stand on the stairs in the line of Jinyoung’s sight, staring at the other companion, for Jinyoung to know that the musician wanted to talk, and he wanted to talk now. Not having anything important to do in that moment, Jinyoung placed his precious silk ribbon on the page he was on and closed the book, taking it with him as he followed Wonpil to wherever the his friend was leading him.

It was eerie, somehow, that Wonpil would take him to the tea room Jinyoung had been in the night before to dig out and bury again the secrets he had been coerced into keeping, but on the other hand, it was a logical choice – it was closeby and they wouldn’t be disturbed or listened upon by anyone than Yien and Wonpil’s guard, if Wonpil even had anyone now if he wasn’t working and Jaehyung was out of the equation. The screens were opened to air the room even though Jinyoung wasn’t even using the room today, but despite the urge to glance towards the flowerbeds, Jinyoung kept his eyes firmly on Wonpil.

“So,” Wonpil began as he turned to Jinyoung, his eyes sharp. When he wore a blank expression there was something almost melancholic to Wonpil’s face in the strong lines of his jaw and the slight downturn of the edge of his lips. “I’ve gotten the feeling lately that you’ve got more to hide than you’ve revealed, and the attack on your palanquin doesn’t seem like a random deed either. So, what I want to know is why my Jaehyung got his arm broken, because you  _ definitely _ know more than you’ve shared with everyone.”

Oh, so this was going to be  _ that _ kind of conversation. Jinyoung had known it wouldn’t be an easy one just from the serious vibe he had gotten from his friend, but that it would be this difficult he hadn’t expected. It would be a fine line to tread, trying to decide how much to reveal. But despite his best intentions to protect the Red Orchid from harm, it seemed likely that Jinyoung had brought it on them, so he couldn’t quite justify rejecting Wonpil’s demands to know more.

“I don’t know for sure,” Jinyoung sighed, his shoulders slumping just a little. “And before you say anything, that much is true. But I do have my suspicions. I don’t know who did the attack on the palanquin, but having heard the guards, it definitely seems pre-arranged.”

There was a small sounds as Yien opened one of the roof latches, dropping down without prompting, but it was fine. It was only Jinyoung and Wonpil anyway, and the conversation had now become relevant for Yien too, as he had been there, and could recount what had occurred more accurately than Jinyoung could with his second-hand information. Wonpil took note of Yien’s entrance, but did not turn his focus away from Jinyoung.

“Unlike typical mercenaries, those were not individuals fighting, but rather had trained as a unit,” Yien said, repeating words he had told Jinyoung already earlier.

Wonpil nodded before going straight for the kill. “So, why were you attacked?” Not even  _ who _ had been the one behind the attacks, which Jinyoung could have started to speculate on easily, but  _ why. _ Jinyoung was pretty sure he knew  _ why, _ but that was something that he could not disclose.

He didn’t want to lie to Wonpil either. His friend deserved that every word out of his mouth would at least be true, even though it could not be the whole truth.

“…It would seem that there’s been a misunderstanding that has made me a target for some dangerous people,” Jinyoung finally settled on.

“I see,” Wonpil said, sounding like he expected something like this. “So, what exactly would Im Jaebum’s involvement be in this? Is he the one after you?”

Jinyoung blinked rapidly, surprised by both Wonpil bringing Jaebum up and even more so about his friend thinking that Jaebum would be responsible for the attack. His reaction probably gave all of that away, but nevertheless, Jinyoung did not hesitate to tell Wonpil this much. “No, he isn’t.”

“But he is involved, you didn’t deny that,” Wonpil pointed out, observant as ever, and there was little Jinyoung could say to that while sticking to the truth, so he remained silent. Yien had taken a place beside him, as in this company, there was little need to pretend that there would be a difference in status between them.

“What on earth can it be that you can’t tell me, tell  _ us _ of the Red Orchid what’s going on, like we always do?” Wonpil wondered aloud, accusation in his voice. It was true, what he said. The information gathered by the companions, guards and servants was often shared for the benefit of all of them, but in this case, it wouldn’t benefit everyone if Jinyoung told them everything he knew, and there was no outright obligation for him to do so. The members of the Red Orchid could always keep information to themselves, if they so chose, and if they did, they could not be forced to share it if they did not want to.

It still made Jinyoung feel a bit guilty, but he stood his ground. Wonpil saw the answer on his face and heard it in his silence. He shook his head in disappointment, but accepted Jinyoung’s decision. He knew he had no other choice.

“Fine, it’s clear you have decided on secrecy,” Wonpil huffed. “But are you protecting us or him? Because obviously this is not a matter to be taken lightly, the fracture in my guard’s arm is more than enough proof of that. I told you Im Jaebum is danger, and that’s what you’ve gotten us into, Jinyoung-ah.”

“The fewer know, the less people are in danger,” Jinyoung answered, his resolve strong. Wonpil knowing about the identity Jinyoung suspected Jaebum to have and the things buried in their yard would do the musician no good, no matter how much he wanted to know. “And I feel terrible about what happened to Jaehyung-hyung, and that me being in danger puts everyone in danger as well, but it is not what I intended, nor is it what Jaebum-hyung intended either.”

Wonpil pursed his lips, unconvinced of at least the latter point Jinyoung was trying to make. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but although you claim to know Im Jaebum’s, do you, really?”

“We have been over this, haven’t we?” Jinyoung sighed, his expression shifting to something more pleading. “No, I can’t know for sure. But everything that I know of him is telling me so, and have you ever known me to be a bad judge of character?”

“No, I haven’t,” Wonpil admitted reluctantly, but didn’t let Jinyoung have even just this concession as he continued, “But never before have you been as emotionally compromised as you are now. Can you truly view him objectively if you hold him dear as you do?”

Jinyoung spluttered. He was afraid he might be blushing, and although he was wearing enough makeup today that it should not be visible, Wonpil might know him well enough to be able to tell anyway.

Yien, bless his heart, came to his aid, having stayed silent for a long while, never one to waste words or get between an argument unless what he was saying was important. “I don’t think it’s possible to guarantee any customer’s intentions, truly, but I do think that Jinyoung-ah is right about Im Jaebum, at least in that he never wanted Jinyoung-ah or anyone else here put into danger.”

This got Wonpil to take his eyes off of Jinyoung to measure Yien with his eyes instead, studying him for sincerity. Yien was a terrible liar, most of the time, and he had never learned to be better as he had not gotten companion training and thus was only required to be able to keep a polite, blank expression any time he might get into a situation that a customer might see him. Telling sweet lies and convincing people it was the truth was not part of his job, that was part of Jinyoung’s, so Jinyoung took no offense that it was easier for Wonpil to believe Yien’s word than his, especially with the  _ emotional compromise _ Wonpil so kindly pointed out that Jinyoung had when it came to Jaebum.

“Fine,” Wonpil said. He wasn’t pleased, but he was listening, and that was what was important. “If you’ve convinced Yien-ge, I can’t argue that.”

“Thank you, Wonpil-ah,” Jinyoung said wholeheartedly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Wonpil countered, shaking his head, but Jinyoung could see that the worst tension had seeped off of his shoulders, the moment turning from an argument to more a conversation. “Nothing you say will make me trust Im Jaebum, but I’ll believe you saying the blame for Jaehyung’s broken arm is elsewhere.”

“That’s fair,” Jinyoung answered. “And I’m as interested in finding out who was behind that attack as you are.”

“But not enough to share why they were after you.”

Jinyoung levelled Wonpil with a look. There was a smile tugging at the edge of his friends lips, indicating that although the matter was not one either of them was taking lightly, Wonpil was teasing him.

“No,” Jinyoung answered curtly, keeping his expression tight, but Wonpil would be able to recognize the softening in his eyes.

Wonpil flashed a smile, taking a step closer so he could clap a hand on Jinyoung’s arm before holding it, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His expression was serious again, communicating his sincerity. “You know that if you change your mind, you can tell me anything, right? If you only ask, I’ll help you.”

“Of course,” Jinyoung smiled, raising a hand to hold Wonpil’s arm as well, a distant embrace of sorts.

He hoped that a day would come that he could tell Wonpil everything, but he wasn’t sure if it would. Jinyoung would take Jaebum’s secrets to the grave with him if that was what Jaebum asked of him. Nevertheless, it was good to know he had Wonpil on his side. He had been less certain of it these few weeks of their disagreement.

Wonpil left first, closing the door behind him when Jinyoung didn’t move to catch up with him, bidding him farewell with a nod. Jinyoung took the moment to reorder his thoughts, figuring that he needed it before heading back to the ruckus of the main lounge. The companion expected his guard to make his way back up into the ceiling, but Jinyoung realized a beat later that there was something bothering Yien, something he wanted to say, since he wasn’t returning to his duties immediately.

Jinyoung expected it to be about the topics they had discussed with Wonpil, about how Jaebum’s motives were unclear or about how the target on Jinyoung’s back was very real. He didn’t expect the words that actually tumbled out of Yien’s mouth, once the guard stopped hesitating and finally revealed what was bothering him.

“Is it just me, or is Jiaer acting weird lately?”

The question caught Jinyoung off-guard, something that was extremely difficult to do.

“What?” Jinyoung sputtered, a laugh escaping his mouth, that perplexed he was by the line of inquiry.

“Jiaer. He’s been acting weird for a couple of days, it’s like he’s distracted all the time. He freaks out if I ask him something and he keeps dropping things for no reason, but he won’t tell me if he’s ill or if something’s wrong.” Yien elaborated, his expression honestly concerned. It was  _ hilarious. _

Jinyoung laughed harder. “Oh! No no, don’t worry about it. Jiaer is fine.”

“So he  _ has _ said something to you,” Yien concluded, correct otherwise except it was what Jinyoung had said to Jiaer and not the other way around that was inciting this behaviour. There was a tint of accusation in Yien’s tone, jealousy, Jinyoung guessed, that Jinyoung would be the one Jiaer entrusted his problems with, which wasn’t exactly true either.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jinyoung repeated, switching to a placating tone. He didn’t want to  _ actually _ make Yien jealous. Angering the person who was tasked with protecting his well-being was  _ not _ the greatest idea. Although he didn’t doubt that Yien would protect him even if he did anger him, but still. “He’ll get over himself in a couple of days, and then he’ll come talk to you about it. Be patient for a little while longer, alright?”

Yien narrowed his eyes at him with suspicion, but he seemed to accept Jinyoung’s answer for now, nodding before turning away and jumping to pull himself back up into the corridors the guards used. Jinyoung truly hoped a couple of days would be enough for Jiaer to get his act together, because if there was anyone that could get any information out of Jinyoung that they wanted to, it was Yien. If possible, Jinyoung would like to keep any further involvement in Yien’s and Jiaer’s potential something to the minimum. It was best they discover it for themselves, now that he had already succumbed to giving them a push.

  
  
  


It was already evening, Yien having left him for the night, when Jinyoung realized that whoever had been taking care of cleaning his room earlier had forgotten to fill his jug of water. It was not a big deal, on many nights Jinyoung might not even have noticed, but he had happened to be thirsty and he knew that the mostly empty jug was from the previous night, so he decided to go fill his jug himself. It wasn’t really late yet – many companions and servants were still awake, completing their last tasks or having late-night snacks – but Jinyoung had always preferred to go to bed early and wake up refreshed in the morning. Sleep was important to maintain his skin in good condition, as was being hydrated enough, which is why Jinyoung bothered to pull on a simple pale pink silk robe on top of is sleeping robes to make his way to the well outside.

Jinyoung hadn’t meant to sneak, but apparently he had been moving rather quietly, because as he came upon the small well the Red Orchid had in their backyard, he surprised Chaeyoung. The young servant had been leaning onto the well, a large jug hanging empty in her hands as she stared into the distance. She jumped when Jinyoung wished her a good evening, and from the hurried motions with her other hand, Jinyoung realized belatedly that she had been crying.

“O-Oh, good evening, J-Jinyoung-oppa,” She greeted him with only the slightest glance towards him, but that had been enough to take in the jug he was carrying and to understand what he wanted to do with it. “I-I’m sorry, you can go first, my jug takes longer to fill,” She added, stepping away from the well to give way to Jinyoung.

Jinyoung shook his head, gesturing for Chaeyoung to go first. “No no, I’m not in a hurry. Take your time.”

With his insistence, there was no graceful way for Chaeyoung to back away from the situation. “I’ll be quick,” She muttered, clearly embarrassed by either having been seen slacking or for the tears Jinyoung could hear in her voice and see in the swelling around her eyes, although she did her best to hide it.

She was a lot younger than Jinyoung, something like five or six years, Jinyoung couldn’t remember for sure. He had never known Chaeyoung well, but knowing that she had been out here, crying alone, he felt like he needed to say something. At least offer to help and listen. “Is everything alright?”

Chaeyoung turned her head to look at him in surprise, hands pausing for only a moment on the rope she was pulling water up with, before she continued again. Her voice was hesitant, quiet when she spoke. “Ah, yeah… I’m sorry. It’s just my family, I’m worried about them. They live in Hanseong and I haven’t heard from them since the late King died.”

Oh yes, that was right. There were varied reasons why children ended up at the Red Orchid. Jinyoung was a rare case with how he had been abandoned here as a baby, while most of the children were either orphans they took in or slaves that Mrs. Kim chose to buy to give a better life and future for. Chaeyoung was basically the latter, except that it had been his family that had sold her to the Red Orchid directly, unable to afford to feed everyone during a drought. She was one of few that had actually managed to maintain contact with her family over the years. Most never learned who their parents had been, like Jinyoung.

And of course, in the last few tumultuous days, information had traveled scarcely, and being separated from her family, Chaeyoung would have no idea if they had been hit by the unrest. Jinyoung doubted it, seeing as it seemed to have been mostly targeting nobles, and Chaeyoung’s family were poor commoners, but of course, unrest spread, and those that were less well off often got tangled in the mess.

Jinyoung tried to put these thoughts into words that would be consoling. “They live more in the outskirts, right? They should be well out of the way of the mercenary army spending unrest. Hopefully things will calm down soon enough so you can go visit them again.”

She sniffled, reaching the bucket to pour the water she had raised carefully into the jug she had brought. Jinyoung was familiar with the jug she was holding, having filled it many times when he was younger: it would take another bucketful to fill it.

“Hopefully so,” Chaeyoung agreed, dropping the bucket into the well again. She was quiet for a moment before she continued, clearly finding comfort in being able to talk about this, which was a relief for Jinyoung. “This year hasn’t been great for them. I’m already sending them all the money I get, but they’re barely making it, and at this rate, I’ll never be able to pay off my debt.”

Not being able to pay off her debt meant that Chaeyoung would not be able to leave the Red Orchid. It was always slower for servants and guards than companions to gather enough money to pay it off – Jinyoung got half of what he made off of his customers and yet a single hour with a regular made him more money than she as a plain servant got in a month. The base allowance the Red Orchid gave should be regarded as generous considering the poverty all of them came from and that there was no need for Mrs. Kim to pay them at all, but it wasn’t much compared to what companions could make. If Chaeyoung was sending all of hers to her family, she would not be able to pay off the debt she accrued over the years she hadn’t yet been worth her lodgings. Her debt couldn’t have been too high though, considering she had only been at the Red Orchid for maybe a year before she had become a full-time servant, compared to Jinyoung for example, who had spent his whole childhood here.

Jinyoung hadn’t had the chance to say anything, too busy trying to come up with something that could cheer her up while not being totally unrealistic, when she continued again. “If I was a companion, I could just, sell my first time and be done with it. Even if I made the least anyone here has made off of it, I could pay off my debt and be free to go help my parents.”

Jinyoung blinked at her, surprised by this exclamation, a thought forming in his brain that he couldn’t quite grasp yet, but consoling Chaeyoung came first. “Perhaps you are more help here, with a steady source of income you can send back to them. There’s not much other work you could do, after all.” It was the cruel truth that possibilities for women in Joseon were not plentiful. It wasn’t fair, but then again, the world wasn’t.

Chaeyoung’s gaze hardened, her lips settling into a firm line. “Maybe, but at least I could be with them.”

Jinyoung doubted it was that simple. Chaeyoung had been young when the Red Orchid had taken her in, and she was still naive. There was a reason that her parents had sold her, and while within the staff of the Red Orchid men and women were equal, that was not the case outside of their walls. An unmarried daughter was mostly a burden, as a dowry was expensive, and working her on the fields made the chances of marrying her off well lesser. However, saying words like “it’s unlikely your parents want you to come back, although they like the money you send them” was not going to make Chaeyoung feel any better, so Jinyoung stayed silent, only nodding. Chaeyoung lifted the second bucketful of water out of the well, pouring it into her jug with less grace than she was capable of, spilling some, and left with a curt bid of good night.

Chaeyoung’s claims about how she could fix everything if she could sell off her first night stayed with Jinyoung as he filled his own jug and headed back to his room. Even in a time of unrest such as this, the auction of the first night of a companion of the Red Orchid would create quite the bustle. It was a rare event that brought a lot of attention to the fancy companion house, a bunch of gossip surrounding the event as the bids of the auction were public and posted on the board outside of the Red Orchid’s main gates for everyone to see. If the Red Orchid had an auction going on,  _ everyone  _ in Hanseong knew about it. It was a matter of pride how much a companion was bid on, although it was up to the companion’s discretion to choose the winning offer. The record so far was held by Bambam, the exotic Thai boy having sold his first time the day he became of age at an outrageous price, although the rumour was that in her days, Mrs. Kim’s had been sold at an even higher one, but she kept silent and smiled whenever asked about it.

And just like that, Jinyoung had his answer to what Yien had meant that there was a way to get Jaebum to contact him. If the crown jewel companion of the Red Orchid put his first time on sale, there should be no way Jaebum would not hear about it. But starting the auction process meant that there was no backing out, as if even one person bid for him, Jinyoung would have to keep his end of the promise. Like Yien had said, the price was high, and it would have to be paid even if the gamble didn’t pan out. And it was a huge gamble, because it both assumed that Jaebum heard about the auction, that he wanted to make a bid, and that he could afford the entry fee, let alone the bid. He should be able to pay the fee easily, based on the wealth that Jinyoung had seen from him so far, but who knew, maybe Jaebum’s monetary situation had changed.

Jinyoung understood now why Yien had said that he could not suggest it. Jinyoung had made it perfectly clear a long time ago that he would not sell off his first time, no matter how much money he was likely to make out of it, because he thought himself above it. Was the situation so dire that he must resort to this, even when there were no guarantees it would work?

It was not a decision Jinyoung could make lightly, and certainly not one he could make on the spot. He would have to sell the one thing he had decided he never would, just in an attempt to get Jaebum to come to him. And would Jinyoung want to go through with it even if Jaebum  _ did _ come through and put himself up for consideration?

_ Maybe, _ Jinyoung thought. If it was Jaebum, he might. But he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t regret it, giving up his integrity, even if it was for an important cause and not for money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehehe.
> 
> Well, I had a lot of fun reading your analyses of Jaebum's background in the previous chapter, and some of you were along the same lines as Jinyoung here :') I hope this chapter was satisfying! Things are now in motion for Jaebum coming back, as you can figure……… We might see him in the next chapter already!
> 
> Let me know how you like the chapter in the comments ♥ You can also follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/seitsemannen) where I post about future chapters and fangirl :')


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